Kindred's Bond
by DarkLightShades
Summary: Clock Tower 3: After her fifteenth birthday, Alyssa is parent-less and purposeless until contact from a distant branch of the family brings her into a turmoil of Rooder politics where her only uncertain ally is one of her former enemies.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note**: Watch me try to inject some backstory and depth into the Rooder history while not dismissing the game mechanics too badly. The story is set post-game, primarily Alyssa focused, but Ralph (AKA The Scissorman) will also feature strongly, along with the occasional appearance from Dennis and his sister. I can't stress enough that the spotlight will _stay_ on the canon characters. Seeing as how there weren't many survivors from the first game, that's more difficult than you'd think, but any original characters are there to enhance the story, not take it over.

**Disclaimer**: Just in case anyone might be under the mistaken notion that I have anything to do with Clock Tower 3, I don't. Not making money from this either. Pinky swear.

**Bonus Edit**: I would love to give a big thank-you to Deepsoul who has kindly offered to go though and beta all my chapters to date. She puts my sad editing skills to shame.

**Chapter 1 - Heed the Call**

At nearly sixteen years of age, Alyssa's life was nothing like what she'd expected it to be. Before her ill-fated fifteenth birthday, her dreams of the future had been of being on the honor roll at her prestigious boarding school, of reuniting with her mother after three years of inexplicable absence and, if she were completely honest with herself, of setting out on a tour of England in the hopes of locating her Grandfather.

The latter two goals had, in fact, been realized in a twisted sort of way, but neither had been the joyous reunion that she'd hoped for. Now both of them were dead; her mother, Nancy, peacefully in a grave alongside the rest of the Hamilton family, and her Grandfather, Dick, lost in the bowels of the decimated Clock Tower that existed somewhere outside the normal scope of reality.

_May he rest in peace_, Alyssa thought sourly, _because I sure don't._

As the last of the prestigious Hamilton line, Alyssa had been entrusted with all the rights and responsibilities the position entailed. Barely considered an adult in the eyes of society, some secret loophole or favor owed to the Hamiltons had allowed her to retain sole ownership of the estate and full access to the family fortune. Her eyes had been as wide as saucers when she'd heard exactly how much money had been left to her, but Alyssa had always been an intelligent girl and had taken care of all her assets with the skill of a person twice her age.

Her first order of business had been to fix up the House, particularly that nasty mess in the upstairs bathroom. The current borders had cleared out after hearing what happened to their colleague.

For the first few weeks after her mother's death, Alyssa had forced herself to stay busy by cleaning the whole house from top to bottom. Having been away for so long, it was nice to reacquaint herself with her old home, and seeing it with adult eyes had revealed more secrets than she could have ever imagined. Like the secret door that had lead to a room full of portraits, all of young girls with blonde hair and eyes that spoke of unknown horrors, or like the trapdoor in her own bedroom that led to an attic she hadn't known they'd had. There were two rooms she had avoided in those first painful weeks, but when she finally ran out of other areas to clean, she could put them off no longer.

Her mother's room was exactly like she had left it; books still stacked messily on the table and the old clock ticking loudly in the corner. It took her half an hour just to work up the courage to move anything in that room, as though doing so would dispel the last vestiges of her mother's presence, but eventually she convinced herself that Nancy would never let her things get this dusty. She gave the room a thorough cleaning, stacking papers neatly and making the bed as though her mother was only away for a little while instead of forever. She relocated the computer to her own room, but in the end she couldn't force herself to throw out any of her mother's things. That could wait for another day.

The second room she had avoided, not so much because of the painful memories of her Grandfather's death, but because she had irrationally wanted to block any talk of Entities and Rooders from her mind – at least for a little while. It took her another two days after her mother's room to dare entering her grandfather's study.

(New Paragraph) The walls were lined with bookshelves from floor to ceiling, and Alyssa knew they contained all the secrets of her heritage that she would need to learn if she continued as a Rooder. With hesitant hands she had traced the rows of books, marveling at the exotic titles with equal parts of awe and dread.

This was what it meant to be a Hamilton. It was her birthright, and her duty, to hunt down the Entities and put a stop to their senseless malevolence. Unfortunately, unlike all those who had come before her, Alyssa had been shielded from the Hamilton's greatest secret, and had survived so far only due to her instinctive abilities and a great deal of luck. If she was going to continue her family's ancient practice, she needed to be much better informed.

Had she stayed at boarding school, Alyssa probably _would_ have made the honor roll, and might even have come out at the top of her class. With above average intelligence and dedication, she was a terrific student, able to grasp complex concepts and excel in almost every field. Her new duties, however, made it impossible to leave the house for great lengths of time, so instead she applied for home schooling and began a very structured regime. In the mornings she studied math, sciences and English, and in the evenings mythology, arcane practices, and weapon techniques.

As if that wasn't enough, she also had to find time to manage the accounts and take care of the estate. Eventually she'd allowed herself a small respite and hired some staff to clean the house – she could certainly afford it – but it still left her with a very busy lifestyle that didn't allow much time for rest.

Dennis had proven himself a life saver several times over. At first he had been willing to allow Alyssa her space, giving her time to grieve, but they had practically grown up together and he could figure out when she was working herself into an early grave. Much to her dismay, he still entered through her bedroom window, insisting that it was impossible for her to ignore him when he did. He began coming over once or twice a week, at random times, so she could never prepare for him, and pulled her away from her studies for what he called 'play time'.

"All work and no play makes Alyssa a boring little girl," he teased, and even though she would swat at him and complain, she always appreciated his visits. Even she got sick of work sometimes.

After his sister came back, he even started inviting her home for dinner. Surrounded by the cramped-yet-cozy atmosphere of her friend's house, and treated to an evening of the warm, familial bond that the brother and sister chose to share with her, it had taken Alyssa a great deal of effort not to burst into tears. But Rooders weren't supposed to cry, particularly not about something as silly as being treated like family, a feeling she had missed desperately over the last six months, or indeed the last three years. She was never able to express exactly how much that night had meant to her without getting choked up, but from the secret smile her hosts exchanged she thought they might have guessed. She now ate with them at least once a week.

So Alyssa's life had settled into an easy monotony, though one that kept her quite busy. Surprisingly enough, she didn't have much of an opportunity to employ her newfound Rooder knowledge. Unlike the madness on her fifteenth birthday, it seemed as though the Entities were either ignoring her completely, or had gone into hiding. Every book she'd read assured her that if an Entity was active, even in a different time period to the one she currently existed in, her powers would have let her know about it. Even so, she couldn't help but feel like maybe she was doing something wrong, but being the only Hamilton left, it wasn't as though she could ask anyone else for advice.

She tried to think of it as a blessing – no news was good news where the Entities were concerned – but now nearly a year had passed since her first experience with them and the intolerable sense of foreboding had only gotten stronger. Something big was about to happen, there was no mistaking it. Unfortunately, until it happened there wasn't a single thing she could do about it, and the waiting was starting to get to her. Her concentration waned, her archery practice almost ended in disaster, and she was forced to turn down her usual invitation from Dennis so that her bad mood wouldn't affect him too.

She stalked around the house in a huff, much to an amusement of the staff who still thought of her as a young girl, sole heir or not. Ignoring the comments she left in her wake ('Poor girl', 'She's becoming a woman, I see.') Alyssa made her way to the kitchen and, with movements that were far too practiced these days, (delete she) started making herself a cup of tea.

When she got like this, the special blend her mother had used was the only thing that could calm her frazzled nerves. The tea - she had discovered during her research – was actually an ancient recipe used by the Rooders for generations. Each of the ingredients was supposed to promote clarity and calm, and it worked wonders when she was feeling sick or upset. These days she has forced to rely on it almost daily, and she was beginning to wonder if maybe it was addictive.

Absently, she heard the door open behind her and forcibly dragged her eyes away from the still-brewing teapot. Standing respectfully at attention was a tall, painfully thin man dressed in a plain black suit. Despite the obvious signs of advancing age, he carried his wizened frame with a grace and dignity that Alyssa had always admired. In his right hand he carried a stack of letters.

"The mail has arrived, Madam," Thomas intoned. Despite her numerous attempts, she had never convinced him to call her by name.

Thomas served as the head of staff at the Hamilton estate, and his appearance had been nothing less than a godsend to Alyssa, who had only the vaguest notions about how to take care of such a huge place. When he had introduced himself, Thomas revealed that he had served the Hamilton family for a number of years until her Grandfather had disappeared. Apparently fearing the worst about her father's intentions, Nancy had gently dismissed all the staff so that if Dick ever returned they wouldn't be caught up in the fighting. Although Thomas didn't so much as mention the word 'Rooder' or 'Entity', there was a strange sympathy in his expression that suggested he was privy to the real reasons behind her mother's decision, and he told her under no uncertain terms that he was more than ready to return to the work he had practiced for more than thirty years.

With surprise, Alyssa found that she herself had a few faint memories of this unsmiling man, and since he carried a letter of recommendation by her own Mother she certainly couldn't refuse him, and he was hired on the spot. Since then he had served her as a cook, driver, confident, advisor, and basically anything else she had needed him to be. He also organized the rest of the staff, making sure they knew to stay out of the library and any of the hidden rooms that might give away her secret.

"Thank you, Thomas." She accepted the mail, making a face more suited to her age than her maturity. Knowing her luck, it was more bills, obscure charity funds asking for donations and unknown well-wishers hoping to steal a slice of her inheritance. She hated opening her mail with a passion.

Reluctantly, she allowed Thomas to usher her away from the teapot and into the dining room. He'd know her long enough to make the tea exactly how she liked it, and the look he gave her suggested that her time would be better spent on more important things. With a sigh she took a place at the large table and began going through the considerable stack of letters.

As she'd expected, a lot of it was bills and even more of it was junk. With disgust she separated them into different piles, one that she would keep and the other that would end up on the fire. Watching the vile things burn always filled her with a small measure of glee. Her mind wandered as she systematically went through every letter, but when her fingers encountered thick, textured paper instead of the usual cheap manufacturing she paused, looking down. In her hand was a broad, stiff envelope marked with a thick seal of wax that bore an unidentifiable coat of arms. She turned it over, looking for other clues, but there wasn't anything else about it that struck her as out of the ordinary.

Curiosity aroused, she pried it open, careful to keep the seal intact. Inside was a neatly folded letter of the same unusual paper as the envelope, and the top of the page bore a much more legible representation of the coat of arms on the wax. Frowning, she translated the flowing script:

_Dearest Alyssa,_

_We have heard of your misfortune and offer our sincerest condolences. The life you were born to is often fraught with danger, and sometimes disaster is unavoidable. Please know that we understand your plight better than anyone, and if you ever need a sympathetic ear we would be more than happy to listen._

_Unfortunately, this letter is not solely for the purpose of pleasantries, though we wish it were so. The time is fast approaching for our daughter's fifteenth birthday, a significant event, as I'm sure a person in your position would know. We wish to offer you the chance to participate in the celebration, and humbly request your presence as soon as you are able to come. We would be more than willing to accommodate you for the duration of your stay, and feel that your advice during the proceedings would be invaluable._

_Sincerest wishes,_

_Your cousin,_

_Baroness Evelyn Bevelle_

It took three readings before Alyssa felt she had taken in everything the letter had said. In that time Thomas had set a cup of tea beside her, and waited patiently to one side while she finished with the letter. Wordlessly she handed it to him, managing to keep a lid on the questions that threatened to burst out of her until he had finished. His reaction, however, took her by surprise.

"Very good, Madam. Would you like me to write an acceptance to the invitation?"

Alyssa spluttered. "Ye-…N-…I don't know! I don't even know who they are. What is this?" But she had a sneaking suspicion that she already knew. There was nothing in the letter that named it directly, but the allusion to a girl's fifteenth birthday was enough.

"The Bevelle family possesses the same significant qualities as your own, Madam."

"You mean they're Rooders as well?"

Thomas winced slightly, as though she had said something obscene, but nodded. "Indeed. If fact you are distantly related by blood, though the tie is tenuous at best."

"So that's why she called herself my cousin," Alyssa mused aloud, glancing over the letter once more. She drummed her fingers against the table in thought while Thomas respectfully gave her a moment to think. "By why are they asking me this? Why now?"

Thomas's expression was of perfectly cultivated blandness. "I imagine they are worried for the safety of their daughter. At nearly fifteen she may be reaching the height of her powers, but she is also quite vulnerable, as I'm sure you know."

Alyssa blinked in surprise. "Do you think they're worried about the Ritual of Engagement?"

"That is a possibility. The Bevelle family is quite large, but the products of that line are far inferior to those of the Hamiltons." It took Alyssa a moment to sort out what he was saying. Whenever the subject of Rooders came up, Thomas tended to be vague at best, as though he couldn't bring himself to talk about them.

"So…their Rooders aren't as powerful as ours?"

Again, Thomas nodded. "I'm sure they feel that your presence would afford their daughter extra safety until the danger has passed."

(New paragraph) He hesitated, and seemed to carefully consider his next words. "Also, it is my opinion that they may be trying to reestablish their tie to the Hamiltons. Your Grandfather believed that alliances with the other families were a sign of weakness, and relations have been almost non-existent for many years."

"I see." Alyssa's mouth was suddenly dry at the reminder of her Grandfather. Even now she didn't like hearing criticism of his actions, though she knew better than anyone that he was far from perfect. She cleared her throat, forcing such thoughts to the back of her mind.

Thomas covered admirably for her lapse. "It would be best to send a reply as soon as possible Madam. What would you like me to tell them?"

Alyssa considered her options. On one hand, she didn't want to go through a repeat of her own unfortunate fifteenth birthday, even if she wasn't the target this time. On the other, she'd have the opportunity to see how a real Rooder family worked. Unlike herself, this Bevelle girl had probably been raised knowing full well of her birthright. Not only that, but if what Thomas said was true, these people were her family, _real family_. Dennis and Linda treated her like a surrogate sister, but it wasn't quite the same.

Making up her mind wasn't nearly as difficult as she thought it would be. "Tell them I'll come as soon as I can."

"Of course, Madam." With a short bow he departed, leaving her alone with her thoughts.

Raising her cooling tea to her lips, Alyssa allowed herself a short, blissful smile before returning to her previous chore. Suddenly, opening mail didn't seem quite so depressing.

xXxXxXxXx

It took her less time than expected to prepare the staff to care for the house in her absence. Thomas, much to her relief, had agreed to come with her as an advisor, and had given her a thoughtful list of things she should bring. Her precious bottle of holy water, for instance, was in an easily accessible pocket of her bags where she could get to it in a hurry. He also recommended a gift for the Bevelle girl, which she surely would have forgotten in her haste to organize things.

If nothing else, Boarding School had taught her about all the things a young lady should know and, more importantly, how to prepare for any social occasion. Not sure what she should expect, she packed for all possible occasions, from casual to eveningwear. She'd been quite pleased with her choices, but Thomas had approached her with some ceremony and presented her with two large boxes, insisting that she take their contents along as well.

The first had contained a white ceremonial gown that, for an unnerving moment, she thought might be the one her Grandfather had made her wear on top of the Clock Tower. This one was of a slightly different design, however, and, though it looked old, it was obviously well cared for. The dress was almost scandalously short on her tall frame – making it rather obvious that she'd had her growth spurt in the last year – but at the same time it was designed to look innocent and pure. Without being told, she knew it had been her mothers'.

The second box held a much different outfit, and she looked at it for a long time before attempting to try it on. It took her a while to figure out all the straps and adjust them to her size, but eventually she worked them out and risked a look in the mirror.

A Rooder warrior stared back at her.

The armor fit tightly, but comfortably. The dark leather hugged her form protectively, but also left her free to move as she needed. Plates of metal protected some of her vital organs, but other parts were left bare to reduce the weight of it. It wasn't just the image that was different, even though that was quite impressive. The outfit showed off the powerful muscles in her arm from weapons practice and the toned curve of her legs. The greatest change was how she _felt_. The armor made her feel confident, powerful, like the Rooder she was supposed to be instead of the teenager she was. It was strangely… liberating.

At once she felt slightly silly, like a little girl playing dress up, but at the same time she couldn't help but think how useful this armor would have been on her last birthday. On her left shoulder she could still see the faint scar where she hadn't quite been quick enough to dodge The Chopper's axe, and on her forearm there was a red patch where an acid burn still hadn't quite healed.

There had been other injuries from that night, of course, but apparently her Rooder blood gave her an advantage where healing was concerned. When Dennis had helped her limp to the hospital – nursing a swollen ankle of his own – the doctors had exclaimed at the sheer variety of wounds she possessed. Despite having everything from cracked ribs to sword cuts, she hadn't been able to give them a decent explanation as to how she'd acquired them. For simplicity's sake, she told everyone she didn't remember.

It was generally assumed that she had been in the car with her mother when she died, and the trauma she'd suffered explained the loss of her memories. That didn't explain the burns or some of the more unusual cuts she'd received, but most of the details were allowed to slide. No one wanted to question a poor girl who'd just lost her last living family member, and Alyssa was more than ready to let the matter drop. It wasn't as though they'd believe the truth (delete comma) anyway.

Almost all the physical wounds had healed, but the emotional ones were still vividly apparent in her eyes, reminding her of why she didn't look in the mirror much anymore. With a final glance at its reflective surface she hastily removed the armor, packing it carefully into the box and donning her usual outfit. At once she was back to 'Alyssa-the-Teenager' as opposed to 'Alyssa-the-Rooder', and she squelched the little feeling of disappointment. It felt better to be 'Alyssa-the-Rooder'.

The armor was a harsh reminder of what she was getting herself into. If the Entities _were_ planning to attempt the Ritual of Engagement with the blood of another Rooder, there was a great likelihood that they would send their Subordinates to get her. If it came to that, she would need to be prepared to fight them.

The two boxes joined her growing pile of baggage, and she hoped that she wasn't over-packing for the occasion. All too soon it was time to load her things in the car and pay her last respects to her mother's grave. She gently placed a bouquet of roses next to the headstone, tracing her fingers lightly over the smooth surface of the marble.

"I'll be back soon, Mum," she murmured, hoping that wouldn't be a promise she'd have to break.

xXxXxXxXx

It was almost half a day's drive to the Bevelle residence, and each minute that passed only served to make Alyssa more nervous. What would they be like? How would they feel about her? Had she remembered to pack everything? For a few alarming minutes she'd thought she'd forgotten the birthday present, but a frantic search had revealed it to be tucked securely in her backpack, right where she'd left it.

After that, she'd tried to distract herself with some reading. She'd brought along a collection of books so she could continue her studies if time permitted. The one she wanted to read most was on the history of the Rooder families; she hoped it might give her some insights on her hosts. The author of the book, Francesca Hamilton, had written up all the unique customs of the individual families, and had even included a detailed family tree that could be traced back centuries. Thomas had been right; the tie between the Bevelle's and the Hamilton's wasn't much – going back several generations – but it was there, nonetheless.

She'd read this particular book before, but had only been interested in the history of her own family. Flicking quickly through the pages, she found the entry on the Bevelles and scanned over it.

_The Bevelle family has a long and admirable history for subduing the Entities, though their methods differ vastly from the other houses. While many Rooder families choose to keep their family numbers small, the Bevelle have always believed that a larger clan provides a greater chance of success against the powers of Darkness. Although not as powerful as others, the Bevelle usually have three or more active Rooders at any given time, and hunt subordinates in groups rather than as individuals..._

This was similar to what Thomas had told her, but the information contradicted vastly with what she had been taught about the Rooder way. As far as she knew, the Hamilton family had only ever had one active Rooder at a time, keeping the line of succession from mother to daughter clear. To think, this family would have three other girls just like her…But is also made her wonder, if they had so many, what use could she possibly be?

She turned the page, searching for anything of interest.

_...Although they do not possess the raw power of the other clans, the Bevelle adjust to this disability with research and intelligence, as well as strength of numbers. They learn a greater number of magical abilities to compensate for their lack of the Rooder powers..._

That sounded interesting. She tried to find an entry on the kinds of magical abilities they used, but there was only one short paragraph that didn't say anything specific.

_...The most fearsome of their abilities is actually passed down through the male line in the family, and is the only reported instance of such an occurrence in any of the clans. Although a Rooder is required to power the ritual, it is only a male of the Bevelle line between the ages of ten and twenty who can cast it. The nature and purpose of this ritual is a highly guarded secret, but it is suspected that this is the source of the family's extensive knowledge of the Entities and their plans..._

Alyssa flicked through the rest of the section, but there wasn't anything else pertaining to the ritual that could satisfy her curiosity. She stared moodily out the window, suddenly wishing she were back in the library so she could search for more information on the topic. A desire to solve mysteries seemed to be a requisite for potential Rooders.

"Madam, we have arrived."

Alyssa blinked out of her thoughts, looking around rapidly. She must have fallen asleep during the drive, as the scenery was radically different to how she remembered it being a second ago, and the sun had risen high in the sky. While Thomas held the door open for her, Alyssa climbed out of the car and received her first look at the Bevelle Mansion.

It was…huge, in a word. Bigger than her own, certainly, but if the book was correct than it was designed to hold a much larger family. It rose from the ground like a monument, overshadowing the landscape that surrounded it. Once she had gotten over her initial awe, however, Alyssa began to notice other things. The stones, for example, were cracked and decaying. The windows held obvious spider webs and the garden was wilting. The place may have been large, but no one was taking care of it properly.

The front door was equally oversized, but the bolts were rusted, and it squeaked noisily as a maid led them inside. She was a short, chatty woman with a no-nonsense manner that instantly put Alyssa at ease. She reminded the girl of her former warden at the Boarding School.

"My Lady has been waiting in the Sitting Room," the maid informed her cheerily. "She's been just beside herself ever since she heard you had accepted the invitation. It's not often we get guests of your caliber here. Everyone wants to meet you, m'girl."

"Oh," Alyssa said, more for the sake of getting a word in than any real contribution to the conversation. She distantly noted that Thomas had stayed behind to organize their baggage and that she was being led on a twisting route through the mansion. She didn't even bother trying to memorize the path they took; it was too complicated.

Finally they arrived, or so she assumed by the way the maid paused in a doorway and tutted over her appearance. With a motherly air she straightened Alyssa's shirt and smoothed down her hair.

"Now remember, you're an equal here. Don't bow any deeper than the Baroness does to you, and don't forget! They're always more scared of you than you are of them." Whatever that meant. Without further ado, the maid opened the door and hustled her inside.

"My Lady," the maid bowed, suddenly showing a lot more decorum than she had to Alyssa outside. "Our first guest has arrived."

With every lesson of etiquette she'd ever learned running through her head, Alyssa gave a shallow curtsy before meeting the eyes of her host. She was greeted with intelligent gray orbs that looked her over thoughtfully, before a receiving a curtsy in response.

"Welcome Alyssa." The Baroness's voice was deep and throaty, instantly denoting her as a woman of power. She moved with a sure stride and embraced Alyssa, planting a dry kiss on her cheek. Despite her actions, the girl couldn't help but feel that the Baroness's manner lacked a certain warmth. Instead of sincere, the act came across as calculating, but Alyssa didn't let any of that show on her face.

She offered the most demure smile she could manage. "Thank-you for the invitation, Baroness."

The woman nodded stiffly, as though it were an effort to break her straight-backed posture. Like the house, the Baroness looked impressive until you got up close. Her face might have been considered pretty once, but age had thoroughly left its mark. Deep crags pulled the corners of her lips into a near permanent frown and her eyes were cold. Still, she dressed in a regal manner, and moved with the same economical grace that Alyssa's mother had possessed.

"It's no trouble dear. I would love the opportunity to speak with you, but unfortunately I have some unexpected business to attend to. In the mean time, we've prepared a room for you."

The Baroness signaled to the maid, "Please take Alyssa to her room in the Children's Wing and inform Nadine of her arrival." She turned back to Alyssa, "My daughter in anxious to meet you. I'm sure the two of you will get along quite well."

Alyssa could recognize a dismissal when she heard one, and allowed herself to be steered out of the room. She kept her face emotionless until they were a safe distance from the sitting room. "Children's Wing?" she growled, outraged. She was almost sixteen for heaven's sake! And yet she had been all but dismissed as a little girl!

The maid, guessing the reason of her distress, chuckled. "You misunderstand us Mistress. The Children's Wing is where we house those of the family who still retain their powers, whether they be nine or nineteen. Being given a room there is a mark of the Lady's respect."

"I see." Feeling slightly silly, Alyssa allowed herself to be led on another confusing journey through the house. This time they encountered other people, all of whom ducked their heads in deference to Alyssa, leaving the girl slightly bewildered. These people didn't even know her, and yet they obviously held her in some esteem. Is this what it meant to be a Rooder?

The Children's Wing, she discovered, was beyond an ornate stone arch cut into an otherwise unremarkable hallway. The arch was crowned with the Bevelle family crest and inscribed with archaic runes, several of which she recognized from the books in her Library. She would have loved the opportunity to stop and inspect it, but the maid ushered her along quickly down the passageway, giving her cheery descriptions as she went.

"This is the living quarters for those of the family who have the potential. No one else is allowed here except me, not even the other family members or former Rooders. Considering what they have to deal with, we found it best to offer the poor dears a little privacy from the rest of us."

This area of the house was in a much better state of care. The walls looked freshly painted, and there was a sweet scent of pine in the air. There were paintings on the walls, all freshly polished, but no other decorations. Nothing breakable, Alyssa cynically noted before returning her attention back to her guide.

"At the moment, we have seven children here. The Baroness's two daughters and her son, Lady Yale's daughter, Count Mitcham's daughter and son, and Lady Elaina's son. They're all absolute darlings. I'm sure you'll fit right in."

Her face changed suddenly, moving to somewhere between disgust and nervousness. "Oh and there's…that thing, but it can't do you any harm, don't worry. Marcus makes sure of that."

Alyssa didn't have a chance to ask what 'that thing' was before she was lead into a large, colorful room that her mind immediately dubbed as the 'playroom'. It was any child's dream; full of soft, comfortable furniture, oversized pillows and every kind of entertainment under the sun. There was an overstuffed bookshelf leaning against one wall, a TV hooked up to the latest game console near one of the sofas, and more things than she could put a name to. In one area it looked at though there'd been a miniature war with soft toys as the ammunition.

"Come on out everyone, our guest is here!" the maid called into the seemingly empty room, and instantly there was movement. Two identical heads peered over the edge of the sofa near the television, and a moment later a set of twins had leapt over it to investigate this new person. Another pair of forms staggered out from under the soft-toy wreckage, a blonde girl with pigtails and a dark haired boy. A shadow crept out of the darkness in the corner, revealing a much older boy with brown hair falling over his eyes, and the last two came from separate rooms that lead off the main room. They all crowded around expectantly, making Alyssa feel like an animal in an exhibit. She wondered if they expected her to do a trick to impress them.

"Now, now, don't crowd her. We're trying to make her feel welcome, not scare her off." The maid shooed her charges back and reluctantly they obeyed. Obviously this lady had a lot of experience with the odd group. "Everyone, this is Alyssa Hamilton. She'll be taking Hannah's old room while she's here."

The pigtailed girl boldly took a step forward and offered a hand and a broad smile. "Hi Alyssa. I'm Tammy Yale. Nice ta' meetcha."

Alyssa couldn't help but grin back. "It's nice to meet you too Tammy."

Apparently sensing that this one wasn't dangerous, the younger children followed Tammy's example and introduced themselves in a flurry of enthusiasm. The twins were Alan and Flora respectively, and were evidently the youngest of the brood. They clung to her skirt with childish abandon and earnestly asked her if she would play with them later. The boy's name was George, and had taken her hand with surprising solemnity and kissed her fingers, winning her heart instantly. When the youngsters could finally be convinced to give her some breathing room, the elder three stepped forward more cautiously.

She could instantly see the resemblance of these three to the Baroness. They all possessed her fine cheekbones and smoky gray eyes. The eldest looked to be nearly out of her teenage years, and was nearly the spitting image of her mother, although her expression was welcoming and her smile genuine. Her brother was slightly younger, with hair a few shades darker than her chocolate brown. His eyes were unreadable, but like the Baroness Alyssa thought they were silently judging her. Finally, the youngest was a girl about Alyssa's age, and obviously the one whose birthday was fast approaching. She had freckles on her nose, and the slightest touch of conceit that some of Alyssa's school friends had possessed; the kind that came with being nearly fifteen and utterly convinced of their own importance.

"We've heard a lot about you Alyssa," the eldest said by way of a greeting. "I'm Janine."

"Don't let the little ones scare you off. We're not all bad," her brother informed her, a note of superiority in his tone that Alyssa disliked immediately. He smiled widely at her, however, and kissed her hand as George had done, but with far less innocent intentions. "You can call me Marcus."

The youngest girl eyed her cautiously and, with near palatable rudeness, seemed to dismiss Alyssa as a non-threat. "I'm Nadine. Glad you could come Alyssa." Her voice was flat enough to be insulting, and her smile bordered on smug, particularly when she caught sight of something over Alyssa's shoulder.

"Now what do we have here?" The voice was utterly unexpected. Alyssa knew she had extremely good senses, and none of them had warned of a presence behind her. More disturbingly, the voice sounded startlingly familiar, and set off an urgent alarm in her head while the rest of her thought processes tried to remember where she'd heard it. She spun around, stance instinctively lowering into a more defensive position. He was so close! How had he managed to sneak up on her? And then she recognized him.

Dark hair splashed intermittently with multicolored highlights. Skin that was almost too pale to be real. A dark scar trailing down his left cheek that gave him the appearance of a crazed jester. Eyes that twinkled with mischief and an infuriating knowingness.

The Scissorman stared back at her and smirked.

"_Hello Alyssa."_


	2. Chapter 2

_**Author's Note:** _Thanks again to Deepsoul for editing this for me.

_**Disclaimer:** Second verse, same as the first. Don't own any of the characters and am making no money. Onwards!_

* * *

**Chapter 2 – Thicker than Water**

Alyssa managed to surprise even herself. She didn't jump, or scream, or run away, in fact she didn't feel anything other than a mild shock (which probably dampened all her other emotions). In this odd state of numbness, she managed to look him straight in the eye without flinching.

"Hello Ralph."

There was a short silence, and then suddenly their audience burst into applause behind her. It might have been her imagination, but Ralph's grin may have widened imperceptibly in approval but she didn't have time to ponder it as she was suddenly surrounded by eager faces.

"That was so cool Alyssa!"

"He scared everyone else except you."

"Even George."

"Did not!"

Janine laughed in light-hearted amusement. "Yes, I must agree, that was quite impressive. Usually people jump a mile when he does that."

Alyssa's smile was wane. "This is the test you give all the newcomers, huh?"

Marcus whistled his appreciation. "Indeed, and I have to say, you passed with flying colors."

"Big deal," Nadine snorted, looking slightly put out that Ralph's appearance hadn't even fazed the new girl.

"I'm curious though," Marcus continued, ignoring his sister, "How did you know his name?"

"Isn't it obvious? Someone must have warned her, that's why she didn't jump."

"No they didn't Mistress," the maid informed her, torn between the shame at being party to a childish prank and bemusement. "I've been with her the whole time and no one said anything."

"Then how?"

It took Alyssa a moment to break out of her stupor and recognize the question for what it was. She locked eyes with Ralph a second time, absently noting that his expression hadn't changed at all. He still grinned at her as though they shared a magnificent secret and, in a way, perhaps they did.

"We've met," they said simultaneously, startling the others.

"Oh." Marcus thought for a moment. "Oh! So he was-" Janine nudged him delicately in the ribs and he fell silent. Apparently she had picked up on Alyssa's abrupt change of mood.

"Let me show you to your room Alyssa. Ralph."

She made a sharp motion with one hand that Alyssa didn't bother to interpret. The Scissorman seemed to understand though, for he gave a sardonic bow. "I live to serve," he murmured sarcastically, throwing one last smirk at the Hamilton girl.

"I'll see you later Alyssa." With an all-too-familiar flash of light he disappeared.

Much to the disappointment of the other members of the Children's Ward, Janine led Alyssa away and into the privacy of one of the side rooms. Alyssa recognized her own bags on the floor, but made no effort to acknowledge them. She didn't resist at all as Janine sat her down on one of the beds and pressed a glass to her lips. The water helped bring her back to her senses, and she managed to hold the glass on her own as Janine took a seat beside her.

"I'm sorry about that. Marcus and Nadine do love their little amusements, and I'm afraid it didn't even cross my mind that you might have…history together." From the way she said it, Janine obviously realized who had ended Ralph's immortal existence.

Alyssa shook her head to dispel the onslaught of bad memories the encounter had unearthed. "How?" she finally asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

"It's the most powerful technique our family possesses. Using the power of a Rooder and the expertise of a Warlock – that is, a male of our family with some magical talent – we can summon a spirit back from the Hall of Judgment."

That name was familiar to Alyssa. The Hall of Judgment was a place that existed somewhere between here and the afterlife, and only the Rooders had the ability to send souls to that dark place. It housed the spirits of the Subordinates killed by the Rooders for the length of time required of their crimes, keeping them from a peaceful afterlife until they had served their sentence. Though there were several methods for banishing souls to the Hall, from what Alyssa had discovered there wasn't a way to bring anyone back. Obviously she'd been misinformed.

"Normally we use the ritual when we want to find out more about what the Entities are up to, or if we need help with a particularly nasty Subordinate, but Ralph's purpose is to protect my sister until her fifteenth birthday has passed." Janine's hands clenched into tight fists, her mouth set in an uncharacteristic frown. "In a few months I'll be twenty years old. My powers are almost gone now. This is the last way I can protect Nadine."

Alyssa nodded. She wasn't exactly happy with it, but she could see why Janine might have resorted to such an extreme measure. "Why him though? Surely there are others more powerful?" She thought briefly of Chopper, whose specialty had been killing Rooders, and shuddered.

Janine shrugged helplessly. "The ritual isn't very specific, I'm afraid. It gives you only a limited choice of those who choose to answer the summons. Ralph was the strongest soul who responded."

Interesting. Why would Ralph choose to answer a call from a Rooder? For that matter, why would any Subordinate? Those questions could wait, however, in favor of more pressing concerns. Like the fact that they were apparently letting a homicidal maniac roam freely about the house.

Some of her thoughts must have shown on her face because Janine smiled reassuringly at her. "Don't worry; he can't hurt anyone without direct permission from Nadine. The ritual ensures that anyone brought back from the Hall of Judgment is bound to the service of the Rooders, otherwise they just get sent straight back."

That was somewhat comforting, but it still seemed entirely unnatural to knowingly let a convicted killer into your home. Still, she was only a guest here. She didn't have a right to judge the methods of the Bevelle family…at least not until they'd been proven wrong. She dredged up a smile for Janine, who was at least considerate of her feelings.

"I think I'm okay now. I might just take a nap for a while."

"You've had a long journey," the brunette agreed, obviously relieved to see Alyssa cheering up. "I'll have a talk with the others not to bother you about it, alright?"

"Thank-you."

She waited patiently for Janine to leave, watching as the Bevelle carefully closed the door behind her. Finally alone, Alyssa folded her knees up to her chin and curled herself into a ball.

"Oh hell," she swore vehemently, unable to keep the lightest tremor out of her voice. This visit had suddenly gotten a whole lot more complicated.

**xXxXxXxXx**

It was a few hours later before Alyssa felt ready to face the world again. The playroom was quiet and empty, and she guessed the time at around late afternoon. Although the area was brightly lit, she now noticed that all the light was artificial. There were no windows. With no one around to advise her otherwise, Alyssa decided to explore the house. Maybe she could figure out its confusing structure.

The Children's Wing was quite straightforward. The playroom was a large square and all of the bedrooms lead off it in evenly spaced intervals around the walls. The only entryway was a single corridor that branched off the main house, made easy to find due to the impressive archway she'd noticed on the way in. Alyssa retraced her steps to the arch, deciding to use it as a reference to keep from getting lost.

Allowing herself no more than two turns at a time, she started exploring the hallways. Surprisingly, all the corridors seemed to be empty at this time of day, and she didn't encounter anyone. This suited her rather well; she didn't feel up to talking to other people just yet. She passed a lot of rooms, but wasn't brave enough to knock and see if there was anyone inside.

Even if she only made two turns on each trip, there were still dozens of corridors she could explore. If there was any kind of greater meaning in the layout, Alyssa couldn't see it. She discovered an open section of hallway lined with antique looking vases right next to a door that announced itself as a bathroom. There were carefully tended potted plants lining the corners at random intervals, and spider webs clinging to the ceiling. What she found strangest of all, however, was the complete lack of natural light. There were no windows or skylights at all, making the place seem like a cave, close and stifling. For an absurd moment she thought that maybe this place was a labyrinth intended to trap helpless victims like herself, and that she'd never find her way out. In the moment her concentration lapsed, she forgot how to get back to the arch.

Had she taken two left turns? Or had it been three? Or maybe she'd gone right?

Forcing herself to stay calm, she walked quickly along the corridor hoping to find someone who could direct her. There must be people here somewhere, right? But all the passages looked the same, and there was no one around. She was almost ready to call out for help and risk looking like a complete idiot when she caught sight of a change in the scenery.

An open door. An open door that seemed to lead outside! Breathing a sigh of relief she lunged for the handle and gripped it like a lifeline, as though she feared the door would disappear like a mirage. It felt solid under her fingertips, however, and she wasted no time in stepping outside and into fresh air, and found herself in a little courtyard.

It looked almost eerily similar to the one at the Hamilton estate; the one where her father had died. It was enclosed by the walls of the house, gray stone weathered with age and the effects of the elements. A staircase led down to an unruly garden that had been left to grow wild. It provided a riot of color that made the place seem far less depressing, and it took her mind off unpleasant memories of what had taken place in an almost identical courtyard. It wasn't so bad here, really. Maybe she'd stay put until someone came to find her. It was better than aimlessly wandering the oppressive corridors.

The garden begged to be given a closer inspection, and with no desire to return inside just yet, Alyssa indulged the notion. The staircase looked decidedly dangerous with most of the steps cracked or missing tiles, but she managed to make it down without incident. There was a stone path at the base of the steps, but it was practically overgrown with flowers and vines, blocking her from actually stepping into the garden. She settled for standing on the bottom step and admiring the menagerie of nature that had taken over the courtyard.

It must have been well tended once, for surely so many different kinds of plants didn't grow together by accident. Beneath the layers of leaves, she could make out the faint lines of flowerbeds that were now choked with vegetation. More interestingly, the garden seemed to feature several statues that were almost completely swamped with vines. The closest one was within arms reach, and before she could stop herself she pulled away the top layer of foliage.

It was a masterpiece. A rearing Gryphon locked eternally in stone, muscles rippling under a soft looking coat and eyes flashing realistically. The love of the artist was present in every perfect contour of the mythical creature. It looked as though it were capable of taking flight at any moment. Enthused by her discovery, she looked to the next statue. It wasn't close enough to touch, but she could just make out the form of a maiden brandishing a sword, her long hair blown back by an invisible wind. And the next one looked like a unicorn, perched proudly upon its pedestal like a show pony on display. And the next one looked like a young man except…

The statue blinked at her.

This time she couldn't suppress a shriek. She stumbled backwards into the wall, searching her pocket for the bottle of Holy water she had left in her backpack. It was about that time that she finally realized that the 'statue' wasn't moving to attack her.

Ralph was laughing, a sound comparable to breaking glass with an undertone of menace and a side order of madness. Even so, Alyssa couldn't help herself from scowling angrily at the former Subordinate. She didn't feel the same unbelieving shock like the first time, but she wasn't happy to see him either.

"Oh shut up," she grumbled, wiping dust off her sleeve and straightening her skirts in an attempt at nonchalance. Janine had sworn to her that he was essentially harmless, and since he seemed determined to get under her skin – whether under Nadine's orders or for his own perverse amusement – she was just as determined not to let him.

With all the natural grace of a dancer he stood up and offered her a mocking bow. "It's nice to see you too, Alyssa."

It was easy to see how she might have mistaken him for one of the statues. His pale skin matched the white marble of the others, and there was a slightly surreal quality to his features that matched the flawless beauty of the artwork.

For the first time she noticed that he looked slightly different from how she remembered him. His clothing was different for starters, though using the word 'normal' to describe them would probably be an exaggeration. He had kept the black mesh shirt, but now he wore it with loose white pants and boots that seemed normal until you noticed the faint patterns of scarlet that would have looked silly on anyone else. His vest was a bright, almost garish red, but it lacked the high collar and ruffles, and was trimmed simply with gold. He also had a small stud in each ear that she didn't remember him having, and there was no ribbon trailing from his hair. The end result was slightly outrageous, but not nearly as extreme as she'd expected.

There was something else too, but it wasn't nearly as easy to define as his physical appearance. It wasn't that he was any less flamboyant or wild, or outright insane for that matter, but there was something missing. The Entity, she realized suddenly. When she had sentenced him to the Hall of Judgment, the Entity would have separated from him so it didn't share his fate. He no longer gave off the unsettling vibe of 'Enemy!' to her Rooder senses. That didn't mean he wasn't still dangerous though, and she wasn't going to make the mistake of thinking otherwise.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, trying to sound confident and unconcerned. He didn't appear to be carrying any weapons, but she knew from experience that his slim frame was deceptively strong.

He gave a long-suffering sigh, eyes not leaving hers. "My obstinate mistress seemed to think I should keep an eye on you, despite her sister's instructions. Apparently she seemed to think you might wander off on your own." He fluttered his eyelashes innocently. "Did you get lost Alyssa?"

"Oh sod off," she hissed, turning around and marching back up the stairs. Suddenly the garden had lost its allure. Unfortunately Ralph wasn't ready to give up his sport, and followed her close enough that his breath whispered past her ear.

"You really shouldn't do things like that. All sorts of terrible things could have happened to you."

"You can't hurt me." She refused to give him any satisfaction by looking at him.

"Oh I wasn't talking about me," he responded airily, falling back slightly, much to her relief. "Do you think these people really want to help you? They're just using you to get what they want-"

She finally reached the door to the house and, with more force than was probably necessary, she slammed it behind her, right in Ralph's face. Her plan was made useless a second later, as he simply teleported in beside her.

"-and as soon as you cease to be useful they'll get rid of you," he finished, unperturbed.

She blinked in surprise. He may not have been a Subordinate any more but he wasn't human either. Evidently he still retained some of his former powers. No wonder they thought he'd be useful for protecting Nadine. Of course, it also looked like she wasn't going to be able to get rid of him until he decided to go away.

Damn.

She set off down the corridor, intending to ignore him. He made the job extremely difficult by his continued presence, talking at her as if they were old friends.

"Mind you, I was quite surprised to see you here. Your houses have been fighting for four…five decades? Surely you knew that."

She hadn't, and it certainly didn't help assuage any of her fears about coming to this place. He might be lying, of course, but she doubted it. Why lie when the truth was probably more painful? She came to a T-intersection and spontaneously decided to go left. Her progress was immediately blocked by Ralph as he decided to teleport in front of her, smiling wickedly.

"You don't belong here, Alyssa. These people are nothing like you."

Disgustedly, she turned on her heel and went right instead. How could she possibly be expected to ignore him when he did things like that? And why did he have to be so damn good at plucking out her uncertainties and putting them on display? He's probably had a few centuries of practice, she thought sourly. Entities lived on human fear and agony, and the Subordinates were the tools they used to harvest these emotions. Physical or mental, Ralph had been a master of torture.

"What's the matter Alyssa? Am I hitting a bit too close to home?" She'd intended to turn right down a corridor, but Ralph obliquely stood in her way again, leaning casually against the wall. She was forced to go straight instead.

"Don't you have anything better to do?" she asked, clenching her fists and wishing she could hit him. She probably could, of course, but she didn't know if that would somehow break the seals that prevented him from hurting her.

"Not at the moment," he informed her cheerily. "Besides, we have so much catching up to do, don't you agree?" He was suddenly beside her again, close enough that it set alarms off in her head, and made her pause in mid-step.

"I haven't forgotten what you did to my sister," he whispered dangerously, suddenly completely serious. "Sooner or later, I'll make you pay for that."

His eyes were filled with deadly, sadistic intent, and Alyssa's breath hitched in her throat. Maybe Janine had been wrong; maybe he could hurt her. For a second it certainly looked as though he was going to try, but then he stepped back, a guileless smile on his face once more.

"But given the current state of things, I suppose it'll have to be later." With a flash of light he faded from view completely, and Alyssa realized with sudden clarity that she was now alone in the corridor. Still gaping slightly at his abrupt change in moods and his even quicker departure, she turned to find something even more intriguing.

She was back at the archway to the Children's Wing. He'd been distracting her so completely that she hadn't realized that he'd been herding her in the right direction the whole time. He'd threatened her…and helped her?

What the heck?

**xXxXxXxXx**

The maid, who finally introduced herself as Bonnie, was extremely apologetic when Alyssa returned to the playroom.

"I'm so sorry m'Lady, I only stepped out for a minute, I swear. I was supposed to show you around myself when you woke up." It took a few minutes for Alyssa to reassure her that it was perfectly all right and she hadn't gotten too lost. She decided not to mention Ralph's odd appearance.

"Where is everyone anyway?" Alyssa asked when Bonnie finally managed to calm down.

"The Children are at their lessons," the maid informed her. "And everyone else is helping prepare for the ceremony. Fifteenth birthdays are always a great cause for celebration here, and this one looks like it's going to be magnificent."

Bonnie smiled happily. "The Baroness has great hopes for Nadine. Both her brother and sister have been a source of great pride for the family, and Nadine looks to be following exactly the same path."

"I'm sure," Alyssa agreed, but deep down, she wasn't. Whereas Janine seemed like a decent sort, her younger sister had an air of conceit that would probably get her into trouble sooner or later. Their conversation was interrupted by a distant chime that made Alyssa jump in surprise. "What was that?"

"Oh that's just the dinner bell," Bonnie said. "You'd better get ready. I'll show you the way when you're done."

Alyssa chose a conservative, formal dress in a gentle shade of green, and hastily ran a brush through her rumpled blonde hair. When she returned to the playroom, it was obvious that the others had returned from their lessons, and were dressed in similar attire for the evening.

"Oh Alyssa," Janine came over, looking resplendent in a dark blue dress. "It's good to see you're looking better."

"Now ladies," Marcus edged in between them, offering them both an arm and a dazzling smile. "We'd better hurry. Nadine will be upset if we miss her introduction speech. She's been working on it all week."

It almost felt like they were organizing an expedition. Bonnie ushered the younger children into pairs before leading the way out of the Children's Ward, and Alyssa took Marcus's offered arm and kept pace with the two oldest siblings of the Bevelle family. Nadine, Alyssa realized, wasn't with them, and she was somewhat guilty to find that a relief. The younger girl hadn't made it any secret that she didn't like Alyssa.

They talked of inconsequential things on their way to the dining hall, and the Hamilton girl enjoyed a brief sense of belonging. The only similar feeling she'd had in the last few months had been with Dennis and Linda, but even with them there were things she couldn't talk about. Anything to do with the Rooders, for instance.

Dennis knew all about her heritage, of course, but even he didn't quite comprehend what it meant to be a Rooder. After her birthday, he'd told her to just quit being one, as if it were that easy. He didn't realize what the Entities were capable of, or understand her sense of duty. But here she was surrounded by people who'd been through similar ordeals, who understood what she was going through.

They're...my family. 

The thought kept her smiling all the way to the dining hall. As a guest, she was afforded a seat of honor next to Nadine, who sat at the head of the table. To Alyssa's surprise, the main table was occupied by the members of the Children's Ward, while the adults and other family members were on other, separate tables.

Because it's the current Rooders who hold the most respected positions, Alyssa realized, not the adults.

It made sense, in a strange sort of way, but it contradicted sharply to how she herself had been raised. She wasn't sure if she approved of the custom or not. It seemed odd to have children leading the family gatherings.

Finally everyone was seated, and Alyssa was surprised to see how many were present. The Bevelle family was larger than she'd imagined, and had managed to fill the great hall with barely any space to spare. There was a quiet roar of conversation, allowing Alyssa the chance to watch people without attracting any undue attention. She glanced around cautiously, but it didn't look like Ralph was present, and she fleetingly wondered where he'd gone to.

When Nadine tapped her glass for attention, everyone quieted respectfully. Across the table, Marcus winked at her. This must be his sister's grand opening speech.

"Ladies and Gentlemen," Nadine intoned, her voice ringing loudly in the new-formed hush. "Friends and Family. I bid you welcome to the first day of feasting. As many of you already know, in seven days I shall face the most important trial of any Rooder's life, the Coming of Age Ceremony."

She paused for effect, and Alyssa had to give the younger girl credit; she was a fine public speaker.

"Like my sister before me, I hope to bring honor and glory to the Bevelle family name, and carry on our proud traditions!"

There was an excited rumble of conversation at her words, but Nadine expertly called them to silence once more with a wave of her hand.

"I would like to thank you all for being here to join me in the first day of celebration, and especially to our cousin Alyssa, who is joining us for the very first time."

There was another outburst of chatter, and Alyssa suddenly found herself the center of attention. People craned their necks to get a good look at her, and small snatches of conversation reached her ears.

"The Hamilton girl!"

"..an orphan now. Isn't that terrible?"

"She'll be a powerful one, no mistake!"

"-Her own Grandfather. Can you believe…?"

Alyssa concentrated on keeping her head high and ignoring the comments. Thankfully, Nadine called for attention again, and the noise died down.

"I'm sure they'll be many things we can teach each other," the Bevelle Rooder continued tactfully. "But first of all, let us begin what we all came here to do. Let the feast commence!"

A rousing chorus of cheers met her statement, and on cue the servants appeared out of a side door, bearing trays heavily laden with food. With almost unnatural efficiency they arranged dishes of every flavor in front of the hungry masses, and within minutes the dinner party was in full swing. Wine flowed like water, but Alyssa firmly refused the bottle every time it was passed around. She got the feeling she'd need all her senses running at peak efficiency.

The food was marvelous, and good cheer and laughter seemed to have taken the gathering by storm. Even Nadine seemed friendlier, though that might have been due to the fact that she'd already emptied her wine glass twice. Marcus kept them all entertained with childhood stories, attempting to embarrass his sisters, but all he succeeded in doing was making them laugh.

Soon the main course was over, and dessert was presented with equal ceremony. Instead of staying at the table, everyone was encouraged to take a plate of their choice and mingle, and Alyssa soon found herself fending off a group of adults who wanted to know all about her. It was of little consolation that Nadine was receiving much the same treatment, trying to split her attention between several family members who wanted to wish her a happy birthday. Janine threw her a sympathetic look, but both she and her brother were caught up with a group of old friends and unable to help.

Realizing that she'd have to fend for herself, Alyssa began moving unobtrusively towards a door she'd seen several others exit to. It seemed to lead out to a balcony of some kind, and hopefully she could seek refuge until the party was coming to an end. All the attention made her decidedly uncomfortable. Finally an opportunity presented itself – a lull in the onslaught of curious passersby – and Alyssa slipped out the door without anyone noticing.

Night had well and truly fallen outside, and the air was cold and slightly muggy. Even so, it was better than being treated like an oddity. She knew they probably didn't mean any harm, but neither was she going to put up with it if she didn't have to. At least out here she could get some peace and quiet…or so she thought.

A muffled noise to her left caught her attention, and when she recognized it she blushed madly. The balcony was apparently the place for lovers to get a little privacy without straying too far from the party. Now that she'd noticed it, she could see a few pairs of shadowy figures twining in the darkness. She hesitated, caught up in her dilemma. Did she risk going back inside to a new barrage of questioners, or did she stay here and chance the embarrassment of being caught? Eventually she decided that no one was paying any attention to her, and if she kept to the far side of the balcony then she could ignore the noises behind her. She leaned over the edge to peer at the darkness-obscured landscape, feeling an exhilarating rush as a fierce wind rushed up to meet her.

"Seems you have a knack for wandering into interesting situations," an amused voice said from beside her, but Alyssa realized that Ralph hadn't managed to surprise her at all this time. Some innate sense had given her a seconds' warning of his appearance.

He sat precariously on the balcony rail, looking as unconcerned as if he were three feet from the ground instead of thirty. He regarded her with a wide, suggestive grin. "Or maybe this is some hidden voyeuristic desire manifesting itself, hm?"

She frowned. "You know perfectly well that's not it." His expression changed to one of exaggerated disbelief, and she hastily changed the subject. "So what are you doing out here?"

"Me?" His hand splayed across his chest theatrically. "I wasn't invited to the party, in case you couldn't tell. For some reason, they seem to think I might dampen the mood."

Despite his dramatics, he did seem honestly put out…as much as he ever did, anyway. Looking down, she saw a forgotten slice of dessert still clenched in one hand – she hadn't had time to eat it yet – and before she could think better of it she offered it to him. "Are you hungry?"

To her bemusement it looked like she'd actually managed to take him by surprise, and she carefully filed that information away for future reference. He recovered quickly though, reassuming his Jester's grin. "No thank-you. I am hungry, but it's not the kind of appetite that can be solved with food."

"Oh." Entities fed off human pain and anguish, and their Subordinates acquired a similar taste for it. She felt slightly silly. "Sorry."

He waved a hand as if it were of no matter. "The Rooder girl's powers keep me sustained well enough. I don't really need to eat."

From the other end of the balcony, Alyssa's sharp hearing picked up the sudden sounds of a heated argument, and the muted ringing of a slap echoed in the night. She glared at Ralph accusingly.

He responded with an eloquent shrug, though his smile widened slightly. "Of course, that doesn't mean I can't have a little taste, does it?" He threw a mournful look over his shoulder, pouting. "Although that was hardly a satisfying dish. She didn't even hit him hard enough to bruise."

Alyssa made a face at him – that was more than she really wanted to know – but it seemed she had caught him in a peculiarly talkative mood. She wasn't going to let the chance go to waste. "You didn't answer my question."

When he arched an elegantly formed eyebrow she expanded, "Why are you here?" The way she said it made it clear that she wasn't just referring to the balcony.

"Ah," he murmured in understanding, but didn't respond to the question itself.

"Janine told me that the ritual doesn't force you," Alyssa continued stubbornly. "It only takes those who respond to it. Why did you? What about Jem-"

The look he shot her was pure poison, and she wisely shut up. Given their history, it probably wasn't such a good idea to bring up his sister, but he didn't look angry at her lapse, but worried. He glanced around as if to make sure there was no one who might try to spy on them before turning back to Alyssa. "Alright. A deal then."

She stared at him, blankly. A deal? Once again he'd gone from lighthearted frivolity to complete seriousness; an emotion he seemed to solely reserve for anything to do with Jemima.

"I'll tell you my reasons, but you have to promise you won't say anything about her where they," he jerked his head towards the dining room, "Can hear it. Deal?"

So he didn't want the Bevelles to know about his sister. She wanted to ask why, but the look he was giving her was so intent that she didn't think it would be a good idea. She tried to think of any harm that could come of withholding that knowledge, but nothing came to mind.

"Fine. It's a deal." When he didn't say anything she held up a hand in an imitation of scout's honor. "I give you my word as a Rooder."

He nodded, seeming to relax. "Then I'll tell you."

But he didn't immediately launch into an explanation like she'd expected. Instead he seemed to carefully consider his words, surprising her once again. She hadn't thought he was capable of such grave deliberation. Finally, he seemed to make up his mind.

"You banished me," he said carefully. "So you know the length of my sentence, yes?"

She nodded. The knowledge had come to her in the same instinctive fashion that all her other powers had. If she remembered correctly, his punishment was supposed to last for more than eight hundred years, an inconceivably long time.

"And you know her sentence too."

He was talking about Jemima. She nodded again, wondering where he was leading her. Maybe this was just another joke he was playing on her, and any minute he'd be laughing his head off like usual, teasing her for her gullibility.

"Well…what you probably don't know is that the summoning ritual they use creates a pact, of sorts. I give them my services, cater to their requests, and do their dirty work. In exchange, they agree to lessen my sentence."

Suddenly she understood. Ralph's sentence was more than twice as long as Jemima's. If he could get the Bevelle's to shorten his time, he and his sister could leave the Hall of Judgment together. Seeing her comprehension, Ralph allowed himself a small, honest smile that was nothing like his usual twisted grins.

"She always did hate waiting for me," he said fondly, resting his chin on folded hands. "That is why I am here."

She believed him, too. Ralph may have been a ruthless, sadistic murderer, but the one thing he did care about was his sister. It wasn't that much of a surprise that they wanted to be together in death as well as life. She wanted to ask more questions, but at that precise moment Janine stuck her head through the door, peering into the darkness. When she spotted Alyssa by the railing, she waved frantically.

"There you are Alyssa. I've been looking for you for ages. Come inside, I want to introduce you to everyone."

Alyssa forced a smile, mentally preparing herself for another hour of questioning stares. "I'm coming."

When she glanced to the side, she wasn't surprised to see that Ralph was nowhere in sight.

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_Author's Note: All comments and constructive criticisms are welcome. This is a tiny fandom so I'm not expective miracles, but a few reviews wouldn't go astray just so I don't feel too lonely._


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer:** Of course it wouldn't be a proper Clocktower fic without a bit of gore, running in the dark and getting lost in mysterious tunnels. I haven't been entirely faithful to the game mechanics here since most of them don't translate well into 'real' terms, so just shrug your shoulders and move on, or if you think you have other theories that make more sense, I'm happy to hear them.

It should be obvious by this stage that I don't own Alyssa, Ralph, or any other Clocktower 3 elements. I can, however, take credit for the members of the Bevelle Family, and a variety of other original characters that are gonna be popping up over the next few chapters. As usual, all feedback is greedily devoured and enjoyed.

**Bonus Edit:** Thanks to Deepsoul, who braves the horror of my typos. 83

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**Chapter 3 – Past Laid To Waste**

It was getting close to three in the morning when Alyssa shot up in bed, gasping for breath and shivering wildly. Fumbling slightly in the strange surroundings of the bedroom, she reached for her bottle of Holy water with one hand and fumbled for the box of armor with the other. She didn't question her motives as she put it on, taking comfort from the unfamiliar weight of her frame. She then quietly let herself into the hub of the Children's Ward, just in time to see Nadine doing the same thing on the opposite side of the room.

The girl was wearing similar armor, though hers was heavier than Alyssa's. She seemed slightly disappointed to see the Hamilton girl. "I thought I was going to be the only one."

Alyssa didn't respond, watching quietly as Nadine knocked first on Janine's door, then on Marcus's. Half a minute later they both emerged, looking rumpled from sleep but dressed, seemingly unperturbed at being awakened at such an ungodly hour. They met in the center of the room, huddling close enough that they could talk softly.

"Who felt it?" Janine asked, rubbing her bare arms for warmth. The fire in the corner had burned to embers, leaving the air unpleasantly cold.

"Me…and Alyssa," Nadine added grudgingly.

Janine nodded. "There's a portal square upstairs we can use," she explained to Alyssa. "Marcus can adjust it to take us to the Subordinate. We'll make our plan when we get there."

A Subordinate…No wonder she'd woken so abruptly and unconsciously reached for the armor. Her instincts had alerted her to the danger long before her brain realized what was going on, but now that Janine had named the problem she recognized the same sense of urgency that had driven her to search them out on her last birthday.

The air almost hummed with excitement as Janine reached up to pull down an unnoticed set of stairs from the ceiling. The stairway led up to a musty smelling attic, which nonetheless seemed to be frequently cleaned and dusted. In the near-darkness, Alyssa could make out various mystical utensils and jars of herbs, the tools of the Rooder trade. In the center of the floor was a portal square that Marcus immediately started to work on, adding fresh runes to the design and retracing the pattern where it had faded.

Janine hesitated, looking at Nadine. "Maybe you should stay here. This might be a trick to draw you out before your powers have reached their height."

Nadine looked affronted. "Don't be ridiculous. Your powers could fail at any time now, and Alyssa has never been on a hunt before."

Alyssa started to object that she was perfectly capable of taking on a Subordinate, but held her tongue. It was true that she'd never pursued one with other people before, and she didn't want to insult her hosts.

"Besides," Nadine continued haughtily, "you've forgotten out secret weapon. Ralph?" The Scissorman appeared beside her in a flash of light, looking decidedly pleased at the possibility of violence. Nadine looked at her sister as if to say 'You see?'

Janine sighed in defeat. "Very well."

"It's finished," Marcus announced, wiping his brow on a long sleeve. Unlike the girls, he wore a simple cotton robe instead of armor, and instead of Holy water he carried a strange looking staff. Alyssa wondered what its purpose was.

Janine activated the portal and looked at the others seriously. "Try not to get separated until we know what's going on. And keep an eye on Nadine."

The younger girl muttered a protest under her breath, but Janine's sobriety kept her annoyance brief. Steeling herself for the task ahead, Alyssa stepped into the ring of the portal.

The journey was disorienting as always, but Alyssa managed to get her bearings quickly. They were in a ruin of some kind, derelict and quiet, but it looked as if it had been intentionally destroyed, not aged as she'd expected. Trees rustled from the force of the wind, but it was too dark to make out more than a blurry outline of their movement. The moon was a silver slice high above her, establishing that they had traveled through time as well as space.

She'd always wondered why they usually had to travel in time to find a Subordinate when, in all likely hood, there were other Rooders already in that time period. From what she understood, it had something to do with the fact that the Entities themselves could swap from time to time as they pleased, but nothing in her research had ever given a satisfactory answer to the question. She made a note to ask Janine about it later.

Her senses agreed with what her eyes were telling her; the Subordinate wasn't nearby, at least not yet. A short distance away she could see huddled shapes where part of the building was still intact. That would probably be the best place to start looking. From the way the others were looking in that direction, they seemed to agree.

"Alright, we'll try there first. Marcus, you stay here and keep the portal ready in case we need a quick escape route. The three of us will explore the ruin for the Subordinate."

"As much as I relish the idea of tearing someone apart with my bare hands," Ralph drawled, "My job would be a lot easier if I were allowed to carry a weapon."

There was an uncertain silence as Marcus and Janine exchanged a look, but Nadine seemed unconcerned. She waved a hand as though brushing away her siblings' discomfort. "Fine. You can have one."

Instantly the scissor blades materialized in his hands, and Ralph's eyes lit up in unholy glee at the return of his favorite toys. He cut the air experimentally, delighting in the chime of steel on steel where the weapons crossed. Alyssa suddenly realized he was back in his original outfit, and armed with the blades. She was uneasily reminded of the number of times he had chased her with intent to kill.

"Lovely," Ralph purred, not seeming to notice Alyssa's unease. "I'll scout on ahead then, shall I?" Without giving anyone a chance to confirm or reject his suggestion, he disappeared, leaving a slightly stunned silence in his wake.

"Interesting choice of weapon," Marcus noted mildly.

Alyssa rolled her eyes. "You have no idea."

Janine frowned at them. "Let's focus, please. Try to keep an eye out for any previous victims. We'll need to reduce the Subordinate's power as quickly as possible. If you spot it, tell me quickly, but try not to let it notice you until we're ready to make our move." She and Nadine muttered their assent, and the three Rooders set out at a quick jog.

It was different, hunting a Subordinate in a group. It was less scary with other people around to rely on, but at the same time Alyssa felt more vulnerable. It was all very well to watch out for her own well being, but now she had to watch out for two other people whose strength she wasn't sure of. Ralph, she presumed, could take care of himself.

As they got closer to the building, she caught glimpses of lights. Someone had gone to the trouble of lighting torches, and though that made it easier for them to see, it also prevented them from approaching unnoticed. Janine pulled them to a halt just before they entered the circle of light, one hand straying to her precious supply of Holy water as she stopped to think.

"We should try to find a way to get closer without being seen," she told them quietly. "It might be best of we split up, but…"

Alyssa could understand her dilemma. If they split up, two people would go one way, one person the other. She didn't want Nadine to go alone because she might be the real target of the Subordinate, but she didn't want Alyssa to go alone because she wasn't sure if the Hamilton girl would be able to handle herself. Alyssa decided to make the choice for her.

"I'll go around this side, you two go the other way." Truth be told, she was more comfortable going by herself. It was more familiar.

Janine agreed quickly. "We'll meet around the other side. Try to be quick."

There were no wasted words as the girls parted ways. Alyssa cautiously trotted around the edge of the building, looking for any place where they might be able to advance unseen, but the torches were placed at even intervals. No matter how they tried to approach, the light would reveal them to anyone inside the building. She was beginning to give up hope when something caught her eye, forcing her to do a bewildered double take. It looked like…a body trying to crawl out of its own grave. Morbid fascination overtook her as she crept closer to have a look.

A closer inspection revealed that the marker beside the hole wasn't a gravestone, but a small section of a stone wall. And the body itself was almost sickeningly fresh, not like one who had been carefully put to rest. It was a young man dressed in chain mail amour, his expression twisted into a terrified grimace. Glancing him over carefully, she could see one hand clutched at his side where several gaping wounds still seeped lazily.

Taking another quick look at her surroundings to reassure herself that the Subordinate wasn't creeping up on her, she edged forward and looked into the hole. It was roughly the length and width that a grave should be, but down the bottom she could see some kind of tunnel leading into the ground. From the looks of it, it led right towards the building she was trying to get into. She could also make out the wet splatter of a blood trail in the dirt, and realized what must have happened to the young man. He'd probably been attacked in the building, but hadn't died immediately, and had tried to make his escape by following the tunnel. Unfortunately, his wounds had finally caught up with him, and he'd died halfway to the freedom he'd been trying so hard to achieve.

The only thing she could do for him now was help him complete his final task. Straining with effort, she pulled the rest of his body out of the grave and laid him on the grass. Shivering slightly in both revulsion and sadness, she closed his eyes, making him appear to be only sleeping, if you ignored the blood on his clothes. His flesh was still slightly warm. Next she lowered herself into the hole, slipping slightly as the freshly dug dirt gave under her weight. She'd have to make sure the tunnel was still clear before she took her idea to Janine, and hopefully by the time she'd finished exploring they would have come around to look for her. The body would be able to tell them where she'd been.

The tunnel was small and cramped, and the smell of dirt was almost overpowering. She had to make the trip on all fours, and did her best to ignore the squeaks that suggested rats still used this tunnel, and how things occasionally twitched under her fingers. Just as she was beginning to think that her hunch had been wrong – surely she'd passed the building already? – she caught sight of the figurative light at the end of the tunnel and gratefully crawled towards it with renewed vigor.

Alyssa emerged into a dusty smelling temple, and furiously brushed dirt from her hair and her knees. She hadn't even had a chance to look up before the metallic tang of blood reached her nose, and she knew this was undoubtedly the Subordinate's lair. For a tense moment she listened anxiously, wondering if the Subordinate had heard her, but everything was quiet.

Quiet as the grave, she thought sardonically, but it was mostly to ward off nervousness. She knew she should go back and tell the others, but curiosity beckoned her to at least look around first. At her feet was a long smear of blood, probably made by the solider outside as he'd dragged himself along, and it curved tantalizingly around a corner before she could see where it ended. Maybe just a peek couldn't hurt? After all, they didn't know when the Subordinate might come back and discover the little tunnel.

Her mind made up, she followed the trail, keeping her senses alert for any sound of her discovery. As she walked she automatically took stock of her surroundings, making note of anything that might be of use if she ran into the Subordinate by herself.

Hanging curtain; could be a decent hiding place. Fallen beam; might make a good improvised weapon.

The running internal dialog only took up a small part of her concentration, allowing her to focus more closely on the task at hand. The trail of blood was longer than she initially thought possible, making her revise her theory on how he'd died. It wasn't the injuries themselves… it was the blood loss. The trail finally took her into what appeared to be the main chapel of the temple, and she forced herself to stifle a gasp of horror at the grisly scene before her.

She'd known – intellectually – that the Subordinates were far more powerful than any human could hope to be, but here was the unbridled truth, right in front of her. From the looks of things, a small group of soldiers had tried to take down the Subordinate all at once. Their remains were spread all over the temple, blood smeared across the walls and floor like a child's poor attempt at finger-painting. There were a few splashes of dark, oily liquid that were probably the Subordinate's blood, but any wounds inflicted would have been nearly useless. Only a Rooder's soul weapon could successfully banish those possessed by an Entity. Even mortal wounds would only slow them down for a short while.

Distracted by her musings, she had only a second of warning to move before something large and heavy slammed into the place she had occupied only a moment before. Months of training kicked in, and she managed to roll to her feet and face the threat in one smooth motion.

The Subordinate was a large man, practically a giant by her estimates. His bulk seemed to be more fat than muscle, but that didn't make him any less intimidating. He was broad across the shoulder, but his face and belly were round and flaccid. His huge forearms were slicked with blood, and on each hand he wore a cruel looking gauntlet, rusted with gore and covered in wicked spikes. They appeared to be his only weapons, and she winced in sympathy for the soldiers who had been unfortunate enough to go against him. From the looks of their bodies, he had torn them apart.

Even stranger than his appearance was the fact that, for a brief moment, Alyssa could have sworn she recognized him. It was impossible of course. He didn't even come from the same era as she did, and a second inspection revealed that he didn't look anything like anyone she knew, but the nagging sense of familiarity remained. Who did he remind her of?

"What is this?" The Subordinate peered at her with near-sighted eyes, his face screwed up in near comical confusion. He had an unfortunately high voice that, combined with his bulky physique, had probably made him an object of ridicule. His eyes, which seemed far too small for his face, suddenly widened in comprehension. "You're not…a Rooder girl, are you?"

He smirked, and Alyssa suddenly found herself unconsciously backing away. He may not have looked as terrifying as Chopper, but the bodies in the temple clearly showed that he was capable of causing serious injury. He advanced on her, rubbing his hands in anticipation in a way that caused a shriek of tortured metal to rend the air.

"I hoped I'd be able to take on a Rooder girl eventually," the giant crooned. "Your souls are even more powerful than the others. You'll make me so much stronger…"

His fist flew at her, and she was forced to leap to the side or be crushed. His arms seemed disproportionately long compared to his torso, giving him more range with the gauntlets than she would have guessed. Another swipe had her stumbling backwards, towards the altar at the back of the church. She slipped slightly in a pool of coagulated blood before regaining her balance, knowing she needed to get out of here to warn the others.

Unfortunately, the Subordinate hadn't just been taking wild swings at her as she'd first thought. Alyssa suddenly realized that he was herding her away from the exits, intending to corner her against the back wall. Well she wasn't going to stand for that! She reached for the bottle of Holy water strapped to her waist, but hesitated when she caught sight of something behind the Subordinate. Frowning, she decided to put off her own action and see how things turned out.

She ducked around the altar and huddled against the wall as the giant had expected her to do. She pretended to cower, all the while reflecting that he obviously wasn't one of the more intelligent Subordinates if he really thought that a Rooder would go down so easily. He trailed after her, cackling with glee at his supposed victory.

"You're finished girl," he said, raising his fist as he prepared for one final swing. "Any last words?"

She stopped her frightened act and straightened, offering him a cocky grin. "Yes. Look behind you."

"Huh?" Expecting a trick, he didn't turn to look. When twin blades of cold steel closed on his neck, however, he found himself regretting that decision.

"That," Ralph informed him, "was very careless."

In one practiced motion, the scissor blades snapped closed, neatly decapitating the Subordinate. His head – face still caught in an expression of absolute surprise – rolled from his shoulders towards Alyssa. Disgustedly, she kicked it away into the darkness.

Ralph snickered, sitting down on the altar he had used to stand on while killing the giant. "Well that was fun." A few drops of blood had sprayed onto Ralph's face, but the former Subordinate made no move to wipe them away.

"Maybe to you." Alyssa scowled, giving the headless body a wide berth as if she expected it to come to life at any moment.

Ralph noticed her trepidation. "Don't worry about him, Alyssa. It should take him at least half an hour to regenerate." Thoughtfully, he licked inky blood off the edge of his sword and grimaced. "Maybe longer."

Alyssa wasn't reassured. "Where are the others?"

"Still outside," Ralph said, seemingly distracted by the black swirls slithering down his blades. "The little girl refused to go crawling down that hole after you, and the other one refused to leave her sister."

It suddenly occurred to Alyssa that she'd never heard Ralph refer to any of the Bevelle children by name, but apparently had no trouble with hers. She wondered if that was significant in any way.

She paused at the door, looking back at him. For reasons she didn't entirely understand, she waited. "Are you coming?"

He looked up from the blades, eyebrows raised as if to say, You're actually asking me? Whether intrigued by her offer or simply deciding he had nothing better to do, he followed her out, kicking the body of the Subordinate as he went.

"I took that one too quickly," he mused. "Slicing his arms off might have been more fun…"

"I'm glad you didn't." Alyssa said, wishing he would just be quiet. She'd seen some terrible things since becoming a Rooder, but death was something she still hadn't quiet gotten used to; even if it was that of an enemy, and not even a complete death.

He moved to walk beside her, swords swinging in rhythm to his walk. "Why? Doesn't it make your heart race? Feeling your opponent's helplessness, watching them squirm while-"

"No," she interrupted. "It doesn't."

"Are you sure?" he wheedled. "You certainly seemed to enjoy banishing The Chopper with that nasty little bow of yours."

She halted in mid stride. "You saw that?"

He was saved from having to answer by a relieved shout. Janine jogged over with Nadine trailing sullenly behind. "Are you alright Alyssa?" She took in the blood on Ralph's cheeks and swords, and the dirt on Alyssa's hands and knees.

"I'm fine," she said, wondering why Ralph hadn't been included in the question when he was the one who had obviously seen battle. "Sorry I didn't wait for you."

Nadine snorted, but Janine brushed it off. "That's fine. Did you meet the Subordinate?"

Alyssa nodded. "Yes. He'll probably be incapacitated for a while. His body is still inside."

"Alright. We should head back to Marcus. We'll use the portal to go back to our time before we decide on what to do."

"Shouldn't we stay here and banish it?" Alyssa asked uncertainly. Surely the plan wasn't too difficult to figure out. In order to banish a Subordinate, you had to discover their true name and use a Rooder's soul weapon to overpower it. Sometimes the name of a Subordinate could be found in texts, such as the Book of Entities, but her instincts told her that this Subordinate was too new to have been encountered by anyone before. If they wanted to find his name, she was sure that it could only be done in this time.

Nadine looked at Alyssa as if she were a particularly slow-witted child. "We can't do anything until we find out more about it. For all we know it could be the head of the Subordinates! If we try to attack now, we could all be killed."

Actually, the Chopper had been the head of the Subordinates, and he was banished. She didn't know if there was a new leader yet, but she knew that the headless creature back in the temple certainly wasn't it.

"But if we leave he could go and kill more people. He isn't that powerful yet…"

"You don't know that," Nadine interrupted angrily.

"Yes I do!" For the first time in three years, Alyssa felt like a child again, taking part in a pointless argument. Didn't these people realize the danger of leaving a Subordinate to run loose? She hadn't seen any other people yet, but that didn't mean they weren't around, and any victims the Subordinate claimed would only make it stronger in the long run.

"I wouldn't waste your time with them Alyssa," Ralph told her conspiratorially in a loud whisper that was obviously meant to be heard by the other girls. "Their blood is too thin. They don't know what it means to be a real Rooder…"

Nadine turned on him, practically spitting in fury. "What's that supposed to mean?!"

"Girls." Janine took the role of mediator, stepping between the seething teens. "Nadine, calm down. Alyssa, I know our ways are probably strange to you, but please bear with us, and you," she leveled a mild glare at Ralph, who looked like the cat who ate the canary, "keep quiet. I'm sure we can come to a compromise."

The tension between them eased off fractionally, and Janine heaved a sigh of one who was far too old to be dealing with things like this. "Alyssa, are you sure the Subordinate we're dealing with isn't that too strong?"

"Eight kills," she replied without hesitation. "He hasn't been a Subordinate for very long."

Janine blinked, and even her sister looked slightly taken aback. "You can tell that much?"

Alyssa nodded shortly, suddenly self-conscious of her skills. She hadn't realized the difference between her powers and the Bevelle Rooders. Ralph gave her an I told you so look, and she found herself unable to meet anyone's eyes.

"Well," Janine said, recovering quickly, "in that case we won't need the analyzing ritual. Now it's just a matter of the Name…"

Even though she would have preferred to keep quiet, Alyssa found herself speaking up. "I think we'll be able to find it here. This place…was important to him in some way. There should be some record of him somewhere." Again, she didn't bother to question where her knowledge had come from. Her instincts never steered her wrong where the Subordinates were concerned.

Janine hesitated, obviously not comfortable with breaking what was probably a tried and tested procedure for the Bevelle family. "Alright. We'll look here for an hour. If we haven't found anything by then we'll go back. Is that reasonable?"

Alyssa wanted to argue for more time, but since Janine was giving her the benefit of the doubt, she decided against it. "That's fair."

Nadine, however, couldn't contain her skepticism any longer. "You can't be serious? You don't actually believe she can tell the strength of a Subordinate just by looking at it, do you? You're just sucking up to her because-"

Janine pinned her sister with a particularly cold stare that hushed her instantly. "I don't know how the Hamilton bloodline works," she stated carefully. "But I'm willing to give Alyssa's methods a chance if it means we can save our strength. Traveling through the portal takes time and effort we may need to save for later. If we can solve this problem here and now, so much the better."

Nadine bowed her head, properly chastened. Her powers may have been greater than Janine's, but her sister had been a Rooder for much longer. She still had seniority on these matters.

"Alyssa, you and I will go back into the Subordinate's lair. Nadine, take Ralph and go check out those houses we saw around the back. We'll meet back with Marcus in an hour whether we find anything or not."

They separated, Nadine storming off in a huff with Ralph following amusedly behind. If he was still able to feed off human misery, he was probably pleased with the arrangements. Janine allowed Alyssa to lead, as she already knew the area, and together they re-entered the temple.

Alyssa's gaze immediately looked to the altar, and she heaved a sigh of relief to see that the body was still there. They had wasted about ten minutes arguing, but if Ralph's guess was correct, then they still had some time to explore before the giant could come after them. The temple wasn't very large; hopefully they could search it and be done before then.

Together they picked their way over the bodies of the soldiers, Janine managing to keep her face neutral. The main hall was a mess of broken pews, piles of rubble where the giant had evidently missed his target and hit the wall instead, and the occasional pile of unidentifiable gore. They both silently agreed to pass through this room without searching; it didn't look like there were any obvious clues, and neither wanted to be around when the Subordinate came back to life.

They passed through quickly, making their way into the back part of the temple that seemed to be made up of priests' quarters and studies. Alyssa experimentally opened one and discovered a room, barely more than a cell, containing only a few humble possessions all covered in a thin layer of dust. Obviously, no one had lived here for a while.

"These won't take long to search," Alyssa said, instinctively lowering her voice as if it might wake the Subordinate from his death-induced slumber.

Janine nodded. "You do that side of the corridor, I'll do this one." She pushed open the door opposite Alyssa's and vanished inside. Taking a steadying breath, the Hamilton girl followed her example.

It took her only a minute to properly search the cell. There was nothing of particular interest, except for a couple of spiders that she absently squashed. She'd once been terrified of the twitchy little things, but when you faced off against the Entities, spiders didn't seem so scary anymore. She re-emerged into the corridor just as Janine did, noticing the older girl sported more than a few smears of dust on her arms. They exchanged a shrug – neither of them had found anything – before continuing their search.

Janine made her way down the corridor slightly faster than Alyssa. The younger girl had a tendency to get distracted by unusual possessions, wondering what kind of lives these people had lived. From what she could tell, the Priests here had lived a life of relatively solitary worship, with almost no contact with outsiders. Where had the soldiers come from then? And where were the rest of priests? Her Rooder skills insisted that the Subordinate had only had eight victims, and there had been six soldiers back in the chapel. There had obviously been more than two priests living here, so what had made the others leave? Was it just the presence of the Subordinate, or was it something else?

The thoughts whirled unanswered in her head as she reached a room about mid-way down the corridor. The doors to this one were engraved, and in slightly better condition than the others. To her surprise, it was locked. None of the other rooms even had locks; this one must have been important. She pondered this dilemma for only a moment before shrugging, and with a well-practiced kick she forced the door open.

A few doors down, Janine shot out of the room in concern, but Alyssa waved her off. She was almost certain that this room would hold some of the answers to this mystery, and since this had all been her idea, she wanted to be the one to find them. It wasn't because she had an interest in showing off, although proving Nadine wrong would undoubtedly bring her a small measure of satisfaction, but she was eager to prove that the Hamiltons were just as worthy of the Rooder title as the Bevelles, even if their bloodline was limited to one girl who knew virtually nothing of her heritage.

As expected, the room inside was a little different from the others. The bed was large and soft looking, the furnishings were more luxuriant, and the dust wasn't nearly as thick as it had been in the other rooms. An extravagantly carved desk immediately caught her eye, and she hastily made her way over. She wasn't wearing a watch, but somehow she knew that it wouldn't be long before the Subordinate would rise again. She needed to hurry.

Piles of paper littered the desk, and she flicked through them distractedly, searching for anything that might give away the Subordinate's identity. Most of it was reports of chores to be completed, food stocks, and hastily composed prayers; nothing out of the ordinary. Her urgency made her clumsy, and she accidentally knocked a stack of the thick parchments over, sending them scattering over the floor. She bent to pick them up, scowling in frustration, until a splash of scarlet caught her eye.

Is that blood?

She picked up the manuscript with a trembling hand, inexplicably apprehensive for some reason. The pages were held together by only a frail binding of cotton string, and the dark ink had smeared slightly from the blood that had seeped into the paper. She brought it close to her face, having to squint in the dim lighting to figure out the sharp script.

…the fourth day of the sickness and already we have lost more than a third of our order. All of those not committed to helping our brethren have fled, renouncing our faith and leaving us to fend for ourselves. These are dark times indeed, but I believe that this is merely God's way of testing us. We must endure…

It seemed to be a diary of some sort, probably of the high priest of the church. She looked to the next entry.

The villages have cut off all contact with us, denying us the opportunity to buy food and medical supplies. More of our number are dying, succumbing to the severe fever that is the hallmark of this illness. Brother Frederick was delirious for days before he finally passed over…

Only one woman, a healer shunned by the village, still visits us, bringing with her the herbs which ease the suffering of the sick. She is truly a gift from the Lord…

Over the next few entries the handwriting slowly deteriorated, as did the mind of the author. His musings became more wild and nonsensical, and lacking the time to interpret them all, she simply skipped through the pages until she came to the last few entries.

The healer, Elizabeth, still remains untouched by the illness despite the weeks she has spent visiting us. I'm beginning to suspect that she may not be all that she appears…

Now only the dying remain. Even my faith was not enough to protect me, and I fear that I too will pass away. If only I knew Elizabeth's secret. She must have some way of counteracting the sickness! If only I could convince her to share it with us…

…I asked her, in the name of God, to cure my people. She refused, claiming ignorance of the treatment. I will convince her! I must!

…She still refuses. Perhaps my opinions were mistaken. I though her a simple healer woman, but now I am forced to believe that she was the one who caused the sickness! Yes! She is a witch, trying to destroy the true faith of God! Well I cannot allow her to continue, she must be killed for the sake of all. I will ask Edgar to do it. He is the only one who still has the strength, and he would not dare refuse me. He is an imbecile, but he will serve my purpose…

A scuffle of footsteps in the room made Alyssa jump in surprise. She jerked her head towards the sound, instinctively ducking to avoid notice. Towards the center of the room she could see a man pacing with angry, halting steps. His face was blotched with dark, bruise-like marks, and he wore only a light cotton robe that nonetheless seemed too heavy for his feeble frame. His face was twisted into an expression of barely restrained madness, and his eyes were fever bright.

It took Alyssa a moment to realize that the man wasn't real, but simply an image from the past that wished to be retold. No matter what she did, he wouldn't see her, so she simply leaned back on her heels and watched as the scene played out.

It didn't take long for something to happen. The door opened tentatively, and a woman walked in. Her clothes were plain and slightly dirt stained, but her face was quite beautiful and full of kindness. The man didn't seem to notice her presence at first, but when she spoke his head snapped towards her.

"Father Gerald, you shouldn't be out of bed. You need your rest."

Her voice held the strange, muted quality that all Alyssa's visions possessed, but the gentle tone was unmistakable. She was no witch; that was for certain.

The priest's eyes lit up with fury. "Don't you tell me what I need, Witch! I know you're the one who did this to me."

"You're delirious Father," she soothed him. "Let me help you to bed…"

"No!" He shook her off, backing away. "Heathen! Sorceress! Stay away from me. Edgar!"

Alyssa became aware of another shape entering her vision. A hulking man entered, having to stoop to pass through the smaller doorframe. She instantly recognized him as the Subordinate, though this vision version had the same black marks on his skin as the priest. His face was the blank, clueless look of an idiot, but his pig-like eyes were still cold and hard.

The priest looked relieved. "Edgar, thank goodness. I have found the answer to out plight!" The giant's gaze shifted slowly to the other man's, confusion clouding his expression. The priest rambled on, regardless. "This woman is a Witch! She has cast a spell on us all, but I have discovered her plot. Quickly now, you must kill her before her evil can spread!"

The woman looked aghast. "Father Gerald! You don't know what you are saying. You're ill-"

"Silence!" the priest roared, seeming to grow stronger in his pious conviction. "Edgar, kill her now!"

Edgar blinked slowly, nearsightedly searching out the object of the Priest's ire. When he caught sight of her, his expression twisted into a look of bestial anger. "You were the one…who spread the sickness?" He seemed to be having some difficulty breathing; his illness was obviously quite advanced.

"No! I swear I had nothing to do with it. Please…!" She tried to back away but Gerald moved to block the door, and Edgar's lumbering form backed her into a corner, much as he'd tried to do to Alyssa earlier. She scrambled against the stone walls but there was nowhere to run, and with surprising quickness the Giant's hand shot out and grabbed her around the neck and…

Alyssa looked away, but that didn't block out the terrible snap as the woman's neck broke. There was a tense moment filled with the sound of Edgar's rasping breath, and then a thump as a limp body hit the ground. She looked up in time to see him staring at his hands in mild disbelief, before he groaned painfully and collapsed.

Gerald limped over to his side, examining him quickly. "It is too late! The sickness has already taken you. But take heart brother, for you have stopped her evil from spreading. Even as you fade from this world our order shall live on!"

Edgar wheezed pitifully, and Alyssa suddenly noticed a sickly cloud forming over his body. Gerald seemed completely unaware of it, but the dying man's eyes seemed to track it perplexedly. The cloud grew in size, writhing like a living thing, and then small tendrils stretched out from it, reaching towards Edgar for a deadly embrace. The Entity, Alyssa realized. It must have come to Edgar in his dying moments, saving him from the disease.

As entrancing as the sight was, there was something else nagging for her attention. The Priest was muttering a final prayer without realizing that Edgar would soon be better than ever, but the words on his lips…she strained to hear it over the keening wail of the Entity as it seeped into Edgar's body, over the sudden crash of thunder from outside, and over the thud of heavy footsteps behind her.

The last of these sounds suddenly registered on her senses, and she threw herself to one side as a gauntlet-bound fist was thrust through the wall she'd been leaning against. The Subordinate howled in rage as he failed to encounter flesh, as he'd expected, and Alyssa wasted no time in rushing for the door, absently noting that the vision had faded as though it had never been.

She almost collided with Janine in the hallway, only managing to catch her balance at the last second. The Bevelle girl's face was pale, but hardened. "I thought I heard-"

"We have to find Nadine," Alyssa interrupted. "I have the name."

Janine seemed surprised, but nodded sharply. "Outside."

The girls ran for the exit, well aware that the Subordinate was probably right behind them. Even if they couldn't find Nadine before he caught up, they would at least make it outside where Alyssa's soul weapon would have full effect. Behind them there was a wail of pure rage, and the sound of wood splintering as the doors to the priests' quarters were torn from their hinges.

"Hurry!" Janine gasped, but it was unnecessary. Alyssa's blood burned with fear and, just maybe, a little excitement. She could feel her heart beating like a drum in her chest, almost loud enough to deafen the sound of Edgar's wails, and though she could feel her arms and legs trembling, she vehemently forced herself to master the fear. Stopping now would be death.

The alter room was a blur of stone and blood that she didn't bother to decipher, and without slowing her pace she slammed into the door and out into the blissfully fresh air of the outside. Almost instantly she felt the light patter of rain on her arms. The sky had darkened dramatically, and a flash of lightning briefly illuminated the landscape. In that moment of clarity, she knew this was the place, and now was the time. She slowed to a halt, and after a few seconds Janine realized they were no longer beside each other, and reluctantly turned. "Alyssa?"

The two girls regarded each other for a moment; Alyssa calm and ready, Janine shifting restlessly like a high strung horse. After a moment the older girl steadied herself, seeming to find some resolution of her own.

Janine squared her shoulders. "Fine. It'll be better to do this without Nadine."

"Without who?" A sharp voice asked, and even Alyssa had to admit she was faintly relieved to see Nadine emerge fro the darkness with both Marcus and Ralph in tow, though the latter seemed almost bored now. Nadine's mood must have improved.

It was obvious that Janine was relieved to see her sister. "We have the name."

"I know." It wasn't just smugness. Nadine was reaching the height of her power; she had to be feeling the same thing Alyssa was. The battle was about to be decided.

And it's three to one, Alyssa thought excitedly. Ralph could fight, but his blades couldn't finish off the entity no matter how deadly they were, and she wasn't sure what Marcus was capable of, but with three Rooders against only a low power Subordinate they couldn't lose!

Which of course gave her a bad feeling, but she managed to push it to the back of her mind.

Light blossomed from the grass beneath her feet. "Lets do this," she said, knowing the shape of the Rooder sigil without needing too look. Her soul weapon formed in her hand at a thought, the ornate shaft of the bow feeling lighter and more natural than any of the mundane replacements she used for practice. She glanced over her shoulder to see Marcus staring at it, at her, with something close to awe. Ralph seemed to take note of the expression, and glanced significantly at it before holding Alyssa's eyes, as though trying to tell her something. Whatever it was, she found she didn't want to think about it, and looked away uncomfortably.

She had seen the flash as both Bevelle sisters had summoned their weapons, but to her surprise neither of them were holding a bow like she was. Janine wielded a long sword, with a pair of entwined snakes forming the grip and guard. Nadine had a thick spear that was just as long as she was, and for the first time Alyssa noticed the defined muscles of the younger girl's arm, revealed by her armor. Both of them wielded their weapons with easy grace. Both of them looked beautiful, even soaked with rain and splashed with mud.

Did she look like that?

"Here he comes," Janine noted curtly, watching the stumbling, raging silhouette of the Subordinate stalking across the grass. Alyssa held her breath and drew back the first arrow, feeling the finality of this confrontation in her bones.

_Now…_


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note:** All the lovely feedback and warm reviews I've gotten for this story really managed to surprise me. I'm so glad that people have enjoyed this fic, and I'm sorry for anyone who started to wonder if it would ever be updated again. I'm still interested in finishing it, despite being deeply embroiled in other fandoms. It will just require patience.

So this chapter is dedicated to everyone who left me a review, and those who have been waiting to see it continued. You guys are my inspiration.

**Edit:** This chapter has now been edited (it needed it pretty badly) thanks to Deepsoul. I'm sincerely hoping that the site doesn't kill the formatting this time.

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**Chapter 4 - End to an Entity**

Dark, soulful eyes peered at Alyssa from out of the gloom. She gasped, sitting up too quickly and reawakening every ache in her body with painful clarity. The eyes blinked, and were suddenly accompanied by a wide, disembodied smile.

"Morning Alyssa," Tammy Yale chirped, her blonde pigtails swaying as she bobbed enthusiastically beside the bed. The curtained window didn't let much light in, but as Alyssa's vision cleared she could make out the rest of the girl's cherubic face. "Did you sleep well? Janine said you all went out last night. Was it scary? Did you get hurt?"

Alyssa reeled in bewilderment from the onslaught of questions. It was far too early in the morning to be dealing with someone quite so buoyant…was it? "What time is it?"

"Just past noon," Tammy said cheerfully, lifting a tray from the bed side table and offering it to Alyssa. The covered dishes made her mouth water, and bizarrely she smelled the distinctive blend of her mother's tea. Of course; it was a Rooder recipe. "Bonnie thought you might be getting hungry."

"Oh no," Alyssa groaned. "I overslept." But her attempt to get out of bed was thwarted by Tammy**,** who insistently pushed the tray in her lap.

"Don't worry about it. Janine's only awake because she has to help the Baroness with the celebration. Nadine and Marcus are still sleeping too."

Alyssa had grown used to Ralph not being mentioned. Evidently he was something of a non-person to the rest of the household, and therefore not worth any undue concern. Alyssa didn't doubt he was fine, but she was absently curious as to whether he was sleeping too.

Tammy was pouting. "Nadine threw a pillow at me when I tried to get her up."

"I'm sure she's just tired," Alyssa soothed absently and, giving in to temptation, she peeked at what was on the plates. Perfectly fried eggs, fresh bacon, toast slathered in butter. _No sense in starting the day without food_, she decided eagerly. She was starving, and best of all the size of the meal wasn't the dainty, ladylike portions someone of her status was supposed to have. There was double of everything. Someone in the kitchens obviously knew what healthy Rooder girls needed after a battle.

Tammy climbed onto the bed, probably heartened by the fact that Alyssa had yet to throw anything. Her eyes were wide and starry. "What was it like?"

Alyssa hesitated, not just because her mouth was full, and Tammy explained, "I'm not old enough to go out hunting yet. Not for another year or two, and the others don't talk to us about it. Janine says it's not very nice, and Marcus says I'm not old enough to hear about it." Tammy's nose wrinkled. "And Nadine acts like it's some big secret, but I want to know. Isn't it better if I find out now so I'm ready?"

Alyssa swallowed slowly. True, she didn't really want to get in the middle of what was obviously a complex family issue. She could see that Janine and Marcus had the right idea, of not crushing the innocence of the children before they had to – Rooder work was unpleasant, nasty business – but in a way she could sympathize. Hadn't she once wished her mother had told her of her birthright? Would she have done better if she'd known what was really going on? Could she have saved-?

But there was no point in thinking about it anymore. Even given the odd time-shifting nature of both the Entities and the Rooders, one thing was certain. The past could not be changed.

A knock at the door saved her before she had to make a decision. Bonnie peered in, brightening upon seeing Alyssa, before turning a stern frown on Tammy. "I thought I told you not to be bothering our guest, young lady."

"Sorry**,** Bonnie." Tammy's pout was artful, but it only lasted a few seconds before mischievous dimples reappeared in her cheeks. Alyssa covered her own mouth to hide a smile, and Bonnie sighed expansively in exasperation.

"I am sorry, Mistress. I did try to keep the young ones at bay, but between organizing the celebration and all the extra guests I'm afraid I lost track of them all."

"It's fine," Alyssa said, cradling her cup of tea. Despite the horror of last night, she felt fine this morning. Her cuts and scrapes were distant memories, and the aches in her muscles were more pleasant than painful.

"The household is in a bit of an uproar," Bonnie admitted, coming into the room and opening the curtains to let sweet sunshine into the room. "Both Janine and Marcus will be helping the Baroness. Perhaps after breakfast Tammy could give you a tour of the house? Or I could wake Nadine, if you'd prefer."

"No, no," Alyssa protested hastily. "We'll be fine. Right**,** Tammy?"

"Yeah!" the younger girl grinned.

"Don't forget to show her the second floor Library," Bonnie said. "Alyssa should be able to open the door. The Bevelle collection is one of the best among the Rooder Families."

"Yes, Bonnie!"

"What does she mean, I can open the door?" Alyssa asked once the maid had left.

"The second floor library's got a ward on it," Tammy said. "It's where all the Rooder books are kept. I can't get in…even Marcus can't unless someone opens it for him, but you can do it. Come on, I'll show you."

Tammy wouldn't be detained, and Alyssa had to finish her breakfast in large bites to keep up with the younger girl's enthusiasm. She hurriedly threw on her clothes**,** and was all but dragged out the door. As she passed the main room of the Children's Ward she saw the twins, Alan and Flora, constructing an elaborate building using multi-colored blocks. George gave her an earnest smile across the large book he had on his lap, but she didn't have time for more than a brief wave before Tammy was pulling her out into the hall, past the elaborate arch, and into the maze-like corridors of the house.

This time she firmly decided she wasn't going to get lost again, and kept track of the land marks. An elaborate vase at a corner section, a window with a dusty curtain, a torn painting of a clock tower…

_Wait!_

She hastily looked back**,** but they'd already rounded a corner, and at Tammy's prompting they climbed the massive staircase to the next floor.

"I really like the library," Tammy was telling her, taking the stairs with quick, light steps. "Janine showed me where the books on entities are, and sometimes Marcus shows me the ones on magic! Like the portals, but there's other things too. You know the men in our family are Warlocks, right?"

"Yes-"

"They have their own powers," Tammy rambled eagerly. "Marcus told cousin Sarah that he knows how to bring people back from the dead."

"Oh really?" Alyssa asked, sounding less than impressed. It somehow didn't surprise her that Marcus would brag about such a thing, although it made her wonder how many people actually knew what Ralph had been. Now that she thought about it, the younger members of the Children's Ward seemed comfortably oblivious, otherwise she was sure Tammy would have been hounding Ralph just as enthusiastically as she did Alyssa. The thought of the former entity bewilderingly facing off against the perky, blonde pigtailed menace made her grin.

Until it occurred to her that Tammy reminded her of May Norton, the first victim of an Entity Alyssa had known, and her smile faded. Little May who had been so scared and helpless when the Sledgehammer had come for her. Little May with her blood stained piano…

She was suddenly glad to have avoided Tammy's questions about the Entities.

"It's just down here," Tammy said, pulling aside the thick velvet drape that Alyssa had mistaken for a window hanging. The corridor behind it had been hidden, and she could instantly see why. The walls twinkled with ancient symbols that Alyssa only hazily recalled from her books. Symbols of protection, of warning, and the wall down the end had a ward that blazed like fire upon it**,** but Alyssa found it warm and welcoming rather than off-putting.

As she stepped into the corridor**,** Tammy grabbed her hand and clung closely to her side. When she paused to give the girl a startled look, Tammy only blinked blindly, her gaze not quite on Alyssa's face.

"Janine says there's magic here," Tammy whispered, suddenly subdued. "But I'm not old enough to see it. It's dark in here for me."

"Then I won't let go, okay?" Alyssa said, squeezing her hand reassuringly.

She wondered what it must be like, walking blindly through the darkness. Obviously the entrance of the library was designed to discourage visitors. Rooder secrets were kept within the bloodline, and often hidden behind secret doors**,** because the knowledge they collected was priceless, often stretching back centuries. Her Grandfather, she recalled, had considered it his family duty to meticulously copy all of the ancient texts whose pages were starting to crumble from age. She remembered sitting at his side when she was much younger, watching him work in fascination as he told her that one day the books would be the tools she would use to save lives.

That was a long time ago.

The ward on the library door gave off a near scalding heat – again, to subconsciously ward away intruders – but when she hesitantly put her hand to the mark it seemed to sing with the joy of recognition. There was no handle, but the wall clicked open**,** and Tammy pushed it wide with obvious relief, squinting against the sudden light. Alyssa's eyes were already comfortably adjusted, so her first view of the Library was unclouded.

The Bevelle Manor was starting to sink into disrepair, with cracks in the plasterboard, tears in the paintings and stains on the carpet, but the Library was untouched. Not a hint of dust, not a book out of place. The meticulous care had been taken to preserve everything here, just like her Grandfather had done with the Hamilton collection, but considering the impressive wards on the door**,** she doubted anyone came in here on a regular basis except the current generation. Janine, Marcus, or maybe even Nadine, although Alyssa had a hard time picturing the girl with a feather duster in hand.

It was almost as strange as seeing her with her soul weapon last night, savagely impaling the Subordinate on her spear with a fierce scream of rage. Alyssa's memory of the fight was a little blurred from both the rain and adrenalin, but that image stuck in her mind. It was a lot harder to dislike Nadine after seeing her bravely step forward to cover her sister who had fallen in the mud. As unwieldy as her choice of weapon had seemed, the spear had flowed gracefully in her hand, blocking the crushing fist of the Subordinate.

Although she'd been dismissive of the idea last night, she suddenly wondered if Edgar might be found in one of the books here. She'd been so sure that he was a new Subordinate, but something from last night was still bothering her. That feeling of recognition…

"Can I have a look around?" she asked Tammy, tentatively reaching out to touch the spine of a book on the nearest shelf. The title was, _Heavenly Duty__**:**__ A History of the Rooder Bloodline._

"Sure," Tammy smiled. "I'm not supposed to touch the books, but I'm gonna look at the weapons, okay?"

Alyssa looked to where Tammy was pointing, and blinked in bedazzlement at the corner dedicated to well preserved antiques that were obviously the tools of former Rooders. Archaic armor, ornate bottles for sacred water, and a collection of weapons that all gleamed wickedly in their stands. The designs were strange. Rooders used their soul weapons to fight Entities, so she guessed that maybe those served some other kind of purpose. She resolved to have a look of her own once she was done.

"I shouldn't take too long," she promised, not wanting her guide to get too bored.

In spite of her best intentions though, the Library was much bigger than she had first guessed, and she kept finding herself distracted by the contents of the shelves. Some of them were the same books she had in her own library, but a good number were personal journals from – it seemed – both the Rooders and the Warlocks of the family. On one shelf she even found a journal by 'Marcus Bevelle', and though she was sorely tempted to pull it from its place, she resisted the urge.

It might not even be the same Marcus – Rooder families sometimes reused the names of their predecessors as a matter of honor– but when she remembered that look he had given her last night, she wasn't sure she wanted to know.

The shelves weren't marked, but the organization was easy to understand. She followed the trail of books from Rooders to Entities, and finally to the Subordinates. These were mostly hand-written accounts, personal experiences of Rooders, though in a few cases there were compilations where someone had taken all the available information on a Subordinate and organized it by identity.

There were six books dedicated to the Chopper. She pointedly avoided them, but a brief check showed that there was nothing on Ralph and Jemima. She would have thought the unprecedented instance of two people being possessed by the same entity would have taken someone's interest.

There was nothing on Edgar either, but she hadn't expected it to be so easy. Instead she looked closely at the dates listed on the spines of the books, trying to find an encounter close to the one they had visited last night.

"You won't find what you're looking for."

Alyssa fumbled and nearly dropped the book she'd been flicking through, but Ralph didn't even spare a smirk for the fright he'd given her. He was sprawled in the window seat of one of the wide, arched windows. His pose was the pinnacle of a jester's comic exaggeration…but the lazy smugness that should have accompanied it was instead a dull melancholy. He was staring boredly at the outside landscape that was just showing a hint of becoming overcast, and in the reflection of the glass she could see his frown. The scar beneath his eye looked more like a Pierrot's tear than usual.

"Excuse me?" she said, taken aback by both his sudden appearance and his listless mood.

"If you're looking for anything on that fool from last night, you won't find anything," he said, an edge creeping into his voice that she couldn't figure the reason for. "He was a mere child, and now a dead one."

"Are you…upset?" she asked, bewildered. "That he's dead?"

Considering the enthusiasm with which he'd cut into the Subordinate, she doubted Ralph harbored any kind of sympathy. She wasn't sure he even knew what the emotion was.

"Hardly," Ralph said, finally tilting his head back towards her. There was a slightly feral look in his eye that made her want to take a step back, but she stubbornly withstood both it and his long gaze.

"Well…not quite for the reason you're thinking," he corrected himself. His thick lashes dropped to hood dark eyes, and the look he shared with her was a weak shadow of the conspiratorial leer that he enjoyed flaunting behind the Bevelle's backs. "You knew when you first saw him, didn't you? You recognized him. Clever girl…"

Alyssa wasn't sure she liked his approval, especially when she didn't know what it was for. "Who was he? Why did I know him?"

She hadn't realized she'd moved closer until her hands were ready to grab the collar of his vest to shake the answer out of him. Having him moping was somehow worse than when he was bloodthirsty or teasing. At least she expected those. Why this facet of his mask was getting under her skin when the others didn't was beyond her.

It did make him smile though, and he let her wait while he took his sweet time to answer her questions, and when he did all he said was, "Robert Morris."

She stared at him blankly.

"Better known as the Sledgehammer," he added.

"I know that," she hissed in irritation. "But what do you-?"

He put a finger to her mouth, soft as a butterfly's wing. She never saw him move.

"You should know," he said, almost to himself**,** "since you're the one who brought this on all of us."

She wanted to interrupt**,** but he discouraged it with a stern press to her lower lip.

"Sweet Alyssa," he said, in a tone a little too reminiscent of her Grandfather. "It was the Entity you recognized, not the Subordinate. After it left the Sledgehammer**,** and you ruined the future it bid on, the best it could do was make a desperate partnership. That one always did have a bad taste in vessels. Stupid men make for stupid Entities after long association."

He spoke as if with poetry, with its meaning just beyond her grasp. She'd never thought to wonder where the Entities went after their Subordinates were sentenced to the Hall of Judgment. On to another victim, she supposed, but she wondered what the chances were of running into the same one twice in one life time. No text she'd ever run across even suggested an estimate for how many Entities existed. They seemed eternal.

"It had a taste for brutality. Quick gratification," Ralph continued blithely, sitting up slightly to continue his tale. "But that kind of behavior always calls the Rooders quickly, and this time he wasn't strong enough. I know you felt it after the battle. Do you know how often an Entity is actually destroyed permanently?"

"No," she said when she realized he wanted an answer**,** even though he had yet to move his hand.

He rose slowly, but for some reason she couldn't react to it, like he was somehow holding her still with his silencing gesture. Hypnotizing, was all she could think, as he very carefully brushed back her hair and whispered in her ear.

"_Not nearly often enough_."

"Alyssa?"

She jumped, for the second time taken completely unaware**,** though Tammy Yale was unlikely to be well versed in stealth. The blonde girl was looking at her curiously from around the edge of a shelf. "Who are you talking to?"

It was a mistake to take her eyes off Ralph for even a second when he was still capable of teleporting. She didn't even see the flash of light**,** just felt the absence of heat in the space he no longer filled. Her hair was still hooked over her ear where he'd pushed it aside to share his secret though, and after a moment of staring at nothing she petulantly stamped her foot and growled under her breath.

"I hate him," she told herself, not sure if he'd actually told her anything useful or if it was yet one more amusement for wasting her time. She didn't understand him. Not in the slightest.

"Alyssa?" Tammy called again, sounding worried.

She quickly composed herself, trying to appear less like the mad woman she must seem for talking and spitting at thin air. "I'm coming."

Next time she saw Ralph, maybe she would try shaking the answers out of him, but unfortunately for her**,** he'd probably enjoy itTop of Form


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note:** And of course, once I resolve to update more regularly, real life comes back to plague me once more. Once again, I dedicate this chapter to everyone who left me lovely reviews. For everyone who's been enjoying the vibes between Ralph and Alyssa, this chapter should be pleasing.

**Edit:** Now beta-ed for your enjoyment and my sanity! 83 Thanks Deepsoul!

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**Chapter 5 - The Meaning of Time.**

The dining hall had transformed overnight. Alyssa stared in wonder at the long sheets of perfect white gauze that trailed from the ceiling. White table cloths, white candles, and white statues of marble that must have been taken out in honor of the occasion. It reminded her of the garden she'd found, and she wondered if there had been a sculptor in the Bevelle family, because they all possessed the same flawless beauty.

If she found herself subconsciously checking to see if Ralph was posing as one of them again, it was only because she wanted to avoid him, she told herself. Her thoughts were still spinning like a whirlwind from the things he'd said and, ridiculously, from the ghost of his finger against her lips. Every so often she swiped her mouth with the back of a hand to try and banish it, but nothing seemed to work, and she only hoped he wasn't still watching her. He'd probably be laughing.

"It looks amazing," she exclaimed to Janine as she helped the older girl lay out serviettes on the massive tables. It seemed somehow they were going to crowd even more people into the room than last night. Janine had protested when Alyssa had come to help, but it made the younger girl feel better to have something useful to do to take her mind off things.

"It's like this for the fifteenth birthday of every Rooder," Janine said, sounding a little wry. "It helps keep an air of civility on the occasion. Fifteenth birthdays can be quite harrowing; I'm sure you know."

Suddenly curious, Alyssa asked, "What was yours like?"

Janine seemed surprised, and laughed a little. "Mine wasn't all that exciting compared to some. Hannah Yale was only a little older than me at the time, and she and I had plenty of strength between us. Only one Entity dared to show itself."

She paused for a moment, deep in thought, before saying, "Nadine was born at a bad time. She was supposed to have been conceived sooner, so when we got older I could still protect her properly, but it just didn't work out that way, and after her…"

Janine bit her lip. "There were three miscarriages from other branches of the family who tried to produce a companion close in age for Nadine. We suspect the Entities, of course, but Nadine was five when Tammy was finally born and by then it was too late, you see."

"That's horrible," Alyssa said, aghast. Could the Entities really manage such a feat? She had read books to suggest that they had other powers besides their possession of the Subordinates, but the texts were never clear.

"I heard mother even thought about sending her away just so Nadine wouldn't have to face the Entities alone," Janine said, perhaps unintentionally while she dwelt in memory. She misinterpreted Alyssa's staring and hastily added, "She kept to her duty, of course. We all know it had to be done. Nadine understands."

"Of course," Alyssa echoed weakly. She would never have guessed that the Baroness was so like her own mother.

"I'm very glad that you came though, Alyssa," Janine confided. "I know many of the other great families consider us weak because of our dependency, but I think that the Rooder families should stand together."

"You're not weak," Alyssa protested. After last night, fighting alongside the Bevelle girls in the rain, she wouldn't call them anything less than courageous. Even wearing a formal, subdued looking dress for her day-clothes, Janine moved with grace and precision that were reminiscent of her sword work, but Janine shook her head.

"Your powers are obviously more advanced, even though Nadine is closer to her prime. I thought I knew everything about Rooders by now, but having met you I feel like there was much more that I never even thought to look at."

Alyssa thought of all the books in the Bevelle Library. Janine had probably read most of them in order to keep one step ahead of the Entities, which meant that she knew far more than Alyssa would probably ever be able to catch up on. It reminded her of what Ralph had whispered in her ear, and tugged on her hazy memories of the fight with Edgar.

"Janine," she began hesitantly. "Last night…did you notice anything strange when we defeated the Entity?"

Janine paused. "Actually…"

It was always difficult to remember that elusive moment, when the Entity was expelled from its host and was temporarily unclothed by flesh. They looked like a cloud of noxious mist, a cross between green acid fumes and thick black smoke, but for the brief moment they lingered it was like standing next to a force of unbridled malice. It was so intense it made her feel physically ill, and for a few horrible seconds her mind would seize, clouded by a madness to _kill._ It scared her, like standing on the edge of an abyss, and more than once she'd been afraid that the Entity could sense her inner turmoil and would take her next, but always they had fled.

But not last night.

"It was different," Janine agreed softly, almost conspiratorially, as she glanced around to be sure none of the maids or conscripted family members were in ear shot. "That Entity…did it just disappear?"

"Yes," Alyssa said, relieved that she hadn't seen it wrong. She hadn't seen as many Entities as Janine, perhaps not even as many as Nadine, and as the other two girls hadn't commented on the odd occurrence she'd tried to believe that nothing was amiss. It had been dark and raining, and she'd been further from the Entity because of the range of her weapon, but when the final blow had been struck and Edgar had faded to dust and left the Entity behind, it hadn't short towards the sky like the others she had known. She'd felt its hate, but the emotion had faded like the remnant of a dream, and at the time she'd thought her eyes were playing tricks, but it had seemed like the cloud of the Entity's presence had vanished on the wind.

"I've never seen it happen quite like that," Janine admitted. "But then my powers are fading and normal people can't see Entities. I thought maybe it was just another sign that my time is nearly up."

"No, I saw it too," Alyssa said quickly, and then offered her theory. "Do you think we might have destroyed the Entity itself?"

"Destroy an Entity?" Janine sounded shocked, and hastily lowered her voice when a few curious eyes looked their way. "Alyssa, I don't think that's possible. Entities are immortal. They can't die."

"They can be born," Alyssa pointed out stubbornly.

Janine was silent, and for a moment there was nothing but the sound of cutlery rustling as the two laid their serviettes. At length she said, "I don't think there's any way to be certain, Alyssa. The only way would be to try and summon Edgar's soul back from the Hall of Judgment, and at the moment we need to focus on protecting Nadine."

"Of course," Alyssa agreed, and though it sounded like a compromise she was sure she wasn't wrong. After all, the only ones who knew more about the Entities than Rooders were the Subordinates, and once Ralph had told her it was like the pieces of the puzzle had fallen into place. The only thing she couldn't understand was why he had chosen to share it with her in the first place.

* * *

After being released from her duty in the dining hall, Alyssa had promised Janine that she would have no trouble getting back to the Children's Ward to clean up before dinner, but now she was regretting not asking for a guide. The layout of the Bevelle Manor just made no sense! This time, however, she refused to let the claustrophobia take its hold, and after a few minutes of aimless wandering she finally found the bottom of the staircase that she and Tammy had climbed that morning. With much more confidence she followed the corridors back from there, and as a result walked right past the painting she'd been half-ready to dismiss as a figment of her imagination.

It really was a clock tower. In fact, it looked exactly like _that_ clock tower, and for a moment she felt like she was standing on the edge of a precipice and that the painting was trying to suck her back into that twisted world. She forced herself to look at the dust on the frame, and the scrawl of the artist's signature nearly lost amongst the bricks at the base of the tower. It was just a painting, albeit a disturbingly familiar one.

The question was why. Who had seen it? Who had _painted_ it? Was it really the same clock tower, or just a bizarre coincidence? The signature read 'KB', and she tentatively traced the letters. The thick oil paint felt oddly greasy, as though it were still wet.

"Tick tock, Alyssa."

Her heart lurched unpleasantly, but at least this time she didn't jump. She glared coldly at Ralph. "Don't you have better things to do than keep harassing me?"

Any trace of his earlier subdued mood was gone, and his jester's grin was back in full force. "Not at all. Out of sight is out of mind for our upcoming birthday girl. I have to find my own amusements, and you never fail to provide, Alyssa."

He reached over her shoulder to touch the painting, and she flushed lightly when she realized he was almost pressed up against her back, but moving felt like it would have been an admittance of defeat. She straightened her posture, warily watching the graceful tips of his pale fingers as he traced the path of the signature as she just had.

"Katherine Bevelle," he said with a peculiar hint of fondness. "She was seventeen when she painted this, and running on the last breath of her powers. A little early for a Rooder, but then again she was never very strong."

He smirked wickedly at her. "She went mad shortly afterwards, and threw herself off the roof after stabbing out her own eyes. All the way down she screamed that they had shown her terrible things, and that they were cursed."

Alyssa shuddered, feeling a subdued pang of sadness for the poor woman…just a girl, really. Once again she had a feeling this was an occasion where truth was more horrific than fiction. She didn't think Ralph was lying. "How do you know?"

"The girl wandered into our world like a little lost lamb, just asking to be devoured by the wolves. She looked quite delicious." He licked his lips pointedly. "But while the others squabbled over who would get to eat her, she managed to escape."

She would have been relieved that he finally moved away, except for the look he was giving her. Half-lidded, content, but dangerous, like a drowsing panther.

"I chose to keep an eye on her. I've always had a weakness for watching you Rooder girls, but she didn't last long. Few Rooders survive coming back from the heart of the Entity's realm, and no one comes back unchanged. What sweet Katherine saw there warped her mind, and day by beautiful day she sank into despair until she could stand it no longer."

The fabled realm of the Entities. Few Rooder books could tell much about it for exactly the reason Ralph had specified, and until that moment she hadn't made the connection and realized that was where her Grandfather had sent her. She looked at her hands as though expecting them to belong to someone else. "It didn't change me."

"Didn't it?"

Her gaze shot towards him, but his expression gave her nothing but a sense of unease. Ralph tilted his head slyly. "Of course you would know best, wouldn't you Alyssa?"

He was taunting her again, and she wasn't going to rise to the bait. Instead she looked back at the painting. "Why did she paint this? Why the clock tower?"

"Why?" he asked, seeming amused. "Who can tell the workings of a mad woman? It wasn't just this painting. There were dozens of others, each more macabre than the last. The Bevelle family produces great artisans, you know. She would paint herself to exhaustion every day, hoping not to dream, and as her mind deteriorated so did her subject matter. I suppose this was the only one they felt comfortable leaving on display."

She scowled at him, and he smilingly got to the point. "But if you want to know why the Tower specifically, it is the centerpiece of the Entity's realm. I expect she understood its importance."

"I thought the Clock Tower had something to do with Lord Burroughs," Alyssa said. "Since it was the place where he died."

"That was just delightfully ironic," Ralph said, but he seemed pleased by her observation. "The Clock Tower has been around for far longer, and its significance is quite different."

"So what is it?"

"What is time to an Entity?" he replied enigmatically, and from the way his eyes danced he knew very well that she'd managed to get intrigued despite herself, and was now going to take pleasure in holding the real answers out of her reach.

"Is there a reason you're even telling me this?" she asked, irritated. She fully expected him to admit it was just to aggravate her, or perhaps not give an answer at all, so she was surprised when he laughed. Not with sharp, taunting enjoyment either, but a surprisingly honest one. It startled her enough that he managed to pet her cheek with the tips of his fingers and she didn't think to react.

"Ah, Alyssa," he said. "It's because there's a mystery here, even if you don't realize it. I never expected I'd have the chance to discuss it with you, so please excuse me if I seem to be having too much fun."

She must have been gaping at him, but he didn't take the opportunity to point it out at her expense. Instead he gave her a courtly bow with undercurrents of meaning that she couldn't define. "But I can't just give you all the answers. That's against the rules of the game. I'm only able to guide you in the right direction, but I so hope you figure it out before you leave."

She hadn't even thought about leaving yet, and it struck an unexpected chord which she ignored. "What game do you mean?"

"Not one of mine," he told her. "I'm a player for neither side, but you are a pawn for both, and I think I'd like to see you be more than that. I can't break the rules, but you can, and it's always more fun to see the board be thrown into chaos."

"Is talking in sense against the rules too?" she asked bitterly.

"It's the only way I can help you," he said, stepping closer. "You do want my help, don't you Alyssa?"

Ralph's skin was cold. She knew that from when he had touched her, from the way his presence seemed to cool the room, but suddenly she felt a little too warm from is proximity. Not looking at his face, she pushed passed him rudely. "Excuse me, but I need to get ready for dinner."

He didn't laugh again, nor could she feel his enjoyment that he'd finally managed to push her into leaving. She could feel his gaze on her back, sharp as twin points of a pair of dagger, but the only feeling she got from him was one of thoughtfulness. Then she heard the air hum and knew if she looked back he would have disappeared from view.


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Note:** This chapter is greatfully dedicated to Deepsoul who has kindly offered to go back through my previous chapters and edit them.

**Edit**: Now with less typos, thanks to my long suffering beta.

* * *

**Chapter 6 - Dancing on a String**

While the hall had been transformed into a snowy kingdom of white, the guests showed no such restraint, with extravagant dresses and colours in every shade possible. The scene reminded her a little too closely of coloured strokes of paint against a blank canvass, which took a little of the wonder away.

"What's the matter, Alyssa?" one of Janine's friends asked.

"Oh, nothing," she said, forcing a smile and reminding herself that tonight she _would_ have fun. Fifteenth birthdays _were_ worth celebrating, despite the connotations it had for a Rooder. In fact, it could be considered even more important considering the risks they faced.

Nadine was certainly acting as though she hadn't a care in the world, laughing and dancing with her cousins and friends. She and Alyssa had eyed each other warily, but though there was a tension between them, they were both making a point to just stay out of each other's way. Alyssa considered this to be progress.

Tonight she had been included in the circle, though having been introduced to all of them so quickly she didn't remember any of their names except for one. Melinda Bevelle, a slightly older woman of maybe twenty-five, with grey eyes and dark hair that seemed to run strong in the Bevelle family even though she was only a second cousin to Janine.

Alyssa had shaken her hand and known instantly she had once been a Rooder. She wondered if there was a polite way to ask, but it was a subject that seemed a carefully avoided secret. No one spoke of it, though everyone obviously knew, which struck her as a little strange, but then it was a topic likely to interrupt the frivolity of the celebration.

It made her wonder about other people at the gathering. No one else in Janine's circle gave her that odd feeling, but there was a woman in her forties with hair as blonde as Tammy's, just starting to turn grey at the temples, who did. Her shadowed eyes caught Alyssa's for just an instant before she turned away. There was also a man, sitting with his back to a corner looking out distrustfully across the room, who gave her a similar feeling. Regarding him subtly, Alyssa spied a bracelet of small charms at his wrist, and a thick pendant hanging from his neck.

"Who is that man?" she asked Janine quietly.

"My Uncle Stephan," the older girl replied distractedly. "From my mother's side."

Which would make him brother to the Baroness, and almost certainly a Warlock. Alyssa filed that information away for later musing before turning her concerned gaze on the older girl. "Are you alright?"

Janine had come to dinner looking uncharacteristically pale, and in contrast to her sister's joyful abandon she had been much more reserved. Everyone had acted as though this were perfectly normal, making Alyssa wonder what they knew that she didn't.

Janine herself offered no enlightenment, with an unconvincing smile of her own. "I'm just a little tired."

She had been awake much earlier than Alyssa and Nadine that morning, working hard to prepare for her sister's birthday after fighting the Entity the night before. It should have put her mind at ease, but it didn't. Alyssa considered pressing, but the way everyone else was blithely ignoring the issue discouraged it, and Janine looked strained enough already.

"And with still another two days of celebration to go," a familiar voice to Alyssa's left remarked lightly. "I think when it's all over we'll just collapse from exhaustion."

Marcus smiled at them both which somehow had the opposite of its intended effect and made Alyssa feel uneasy. Still, she was curious. "Two days?"

"It's tradition," Marcus explained. "One day to welcome the family, one day in honour to our patron." He swept his hand expansively to one of the statues which looked similar but not exactly like the saint of the Hamilton house. Instead of being clasped in prayer, her porcelain hands gripped a small harp.

White was symbolic of purity. Alyssa did faintly remember her mother lighting white candles on the small family alter before it had been sealed away inside a wall.

"One day for the birthday girl." Marcus looked fondly to where Nadine was being twirled on the dance floor, her dress (also white, Alyssa realized, but embellished with gold thread) swirling about her impressively. "I believe she demanded a Masquerade. Since it's her party we all have to indulge her."

"I…didn't bring anything for a Masquerade," Alyssa said uncertainly.

"Don't worry," he reassured her. "We'll help you find something. In the meantime, would you care to dance with me?"

"Er…" The unexpected question caught her off-guard, but he took her by the wrist and led her gently towards the dance floor.

"You haven't danced all night," he noted, surprising her more. "And you didn't yesterday either. Surely you're not going to just sit by the wall for your entire visit."

"Well…" She wasn't really a fan of dancing, and she especially wasn't certain about doing so with Marcus. She had seen brother and sister exchange a look before Marcus had dragged her away; Janine displaying a mild warning and Marcus showing confidence. It didn't fill her with assurance, especially not when she remembered the look Marcus had given her the night before and Ralph's own indescribable message.

There was, however, no polite way to turn Marcus down. A few people had turned their way, expressing every emotion from annoyance to intrigue. Marcus had a few admirers of his own who had likely been holding out to catch him for a dance. That he had chosen Alyssa made her the target of more than a few petty sneers. By contrast, the older, wiser faces showed an understanding that bordered on smugness. Stephan the Warlock watched her intently with dark eyes that glittered like the obsidian pendant he wore.

All of a sudden she did feel very much like she was caught in a game to which she knew neither the rules nor the goals. Feeling very much like an outsider, she wished very suddenly that Thomas had stayed with her instead of keeping to the servant's quarters, or that Dennis was only over the fence and would climb over it to see her. More inexplicably, she wished she had Ralph there. His disdainful indifference to the Bevelle family somehow seemed to put it all in perspective, but she knew somehow that he wouldn't venture amongst them here.

Alyssa knew the basics of dancing, but she'd never had much in the way of practice. She felt awkward as Marcus took her hand and put his own on her waist, and the music seemed to slow as though to make this torturous moment last as long as possible. Looking at Marcus only made her more self-conscious. He was the better dancer, and quite good at leading her thought the right steps, but she didn't like the way he looked back at her. It was too intense.

She tried to keep her gaze on nothing in particular, looking over Marcus' shoulder, but she couldn't block out all the faces staring back. She caught sight of Nadine, and was a little shocked by the glare on the younger girl's face. What had she done now to earn that? It was just a dance, and not even her own idea. Alyssa's grip tightened inadvertently from her sudden tension, and to her discomfort Marcus squeezed her in return, looking pleased.

Much later, she would be appalled to admit that Janine fainting had come as a complete and utter relief.

Her first indicator that something had happened was a ripple of dismay through the crowd, overtaking the gathering in a wave of confusion. Someone started to panic, another started yelling for help. Marcus pulled back from her, hearing his sister's name being muttered back and forth from person to person.

"What happened?"

"Janine-!"

"Janine, she just-"

"-fell over!"

"What's going on?"

Marcus gave her an apologetic look before he started pushing through the throng of people who were surging forward in curiosity. Knowing that pushing forward wouldn't get her anywhere, Alyssa took her opportunity to escape, feeling hot, flustered, and uneasy. Only Stephan watched her go, not having moved at all from his corner, and she fled before his inscrutable gaze. She remembered where to find the balcony door, and felt much better being outside.

Without really thinking about it, her feet carried her back to the same dark corner. She was entirely unsurprised to see Ralph, looking like a ghost in the dark and leering at her from his perch on the railing. "Quite a party, isn't it?"

She wanted to ask what he was doing there, but instead a different question left her mouth without any conscious permission. "Do you know what happened to Janine?"

She blinked, but it was a moment too late to take it back. After convincing herself that he wouldn't even be in the dining hall she wasn't sure how she expected him to know, but somehow she had an inkling that maybe he did.

The twist of his mouth suggested that as usual, no answer he gave would be given freely. "Collapsed from exhaustion, I imagine. Such a duteous little Rooder she is."

"But she was fine earlier," Alyssa murmured, feeling guilty that she hadn't pressed the issue. Janine hadn't been looking well; anyone could have seen that. She might have been able to convince the older girl to rest instead of staying at the party.

But was it really that simple?

She scrutinized Ralph closely, intending only to look for the truth in his words, but discovering something more alarming. Ralph was already pale, so it was hard to discern anything from his pallor, but there seemed to be a new starkness to his skin. His eyes were underscored with dark rings that she couldn't remember having seen before, and he seemed…smaller, was the only word she could think. The scar under his eye looked bizarrely fresh.

"Are you alright?" she asked, bewildered that it was an actual pang of concern that she felt. He looked ill, just as suddenly and unexplainably as Janine had.

"Concerned about me?" He flung a dramatic hand over his chest. "You warm my lonely heart, Alyssa."

She ignored the theatrics, seeing it as the distraction it was, and instead reached out to tentatively touch the line that had been scoured into his cheek. It looked as though it would bleed, and she thought it surprised them both when he flinched as though it pained him. He didn't push her hand away though, and his amused expression melted into one of a darker, more ironic pleasure.

"Save your concern for the living, Alyssa," he told her. "I've already died twice. Nothing worse can befall me."

True as it was, Ralph didn't seem dead to her. Whatever semblance of life the Bevelle family had raised him as was extremely convincing. When she moved to take back her hand he grabbed it, rising to his feet in one smooth motion and somehow pulling her away from the edge towards the centre of the balcony without appearing to have moved at all. She wondered if it was a teleporting trick, and although the sudden movement made her tense she didn't feel any threat.

He seemed to brush off the visage of illness, smirking widely to dispel the belief that he was anything other than his usual self. "But if you're so concerned for my wellbeing, then perhaps you would grant me one small request to ease my suffering?"

He almost succeeded in making her smile simply because it was difficult to believe he was suffering anything at all. She tried to sound exasperated instead. "Like what?"

"A dance," he pronounced brightly.

"A…dance?"

"I told you, I'm not invited the party," he reminded her. "I'm positively wounded that they've forgotten all about me."

Alyssa snorted impolitely, and Ralph grinned wider. "Grant me one dance. I promise mine comes without strings."

The way he said it made her suspect he'd seen her dance with Marcus, and she would have wondered what kind of strings had been involved there if his fingers entwined with hers had been less distracting. She pursed her lips, eyeing him suspiciously, but she did almost feel a little sorry for him. Whatever was ailing him, no one among the Bevelles was likely to care, and even amongst people who recognized her existence Alyssa felt alone in this house of unfriendly eyes. His supposed loneliness might not be entirely an act.

Besides, his eyes seemed to dare her, questioning her bravery. There was no music, but at least there was also no audience. She was sure Ralph would vanish if there was.

"Just one," she said warningly, stepping forward minutely and raising her arms uncertainly to an approximate of the correct positions without actually bringing herself to touch him.

His teeth flashed whitely in the moonlight, beaming his triumph as he changed his grip. Much to her surprise, he actually allowed her to keep a chaste difference, not pressing close as Marcus had, and when he prompted her to follow his lead her response was almost automatic. Maybe she hadn't completely forgotten all those lessons from boarding school after all.

The wind was blowing across the balcony, blowing her hair into complete disarray, but the rhythm of the garden swaying to its whim was almost a symphony in itself. Even though it was cold and dark, and even though Ralph was certainly one of the least likely candidates to put her at ease, this dance was much more tolerable than the last had been. No judgment or agendas. No strings. Perhaps he'd had a point about that.

She didn't find it hard to meet his gaze either, as she'd found with Marcus, which was strange, since nothing about his appearance, from the raw scar to the tips of colour in his hair, was settling or ordinary. He stared back, unabashed as she was, but whatever he was thinking was well hidden behind a smile that had less edge than his usual smirks.

Oddly enough, it did seem as though some of the sickliness had faded – as though the dance really had eased his suffering as he'd mocking suggested - but perhaps that was just her perception of it. It was always hard to tell with the mixture of half-truths and misdirection he seemed to volunteer at whim.

He danced with unexpected elegance. She's suspected that he would know the steps but his proficiency surprised her. What need did a Subordinate have of dancing? Yet more for her to mull over later.

"I can't figure you out," she said unexpectedly, frowning at him slightly. Perhaps he wasn't the root of all the problems she seemed to be having here, but he was certainly complicating it all. For every question he answered, he left her with three more to ask, and even when he was offering something simple, she was sure there was more to it that she just wasn't seeing.

"If it's of any consolation," Ralph murmured, spinning her gently before pulling her close once more, "the feeling is mutual."

He made it sound like a positive thing, confusing her even more.


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's Note:** This chapter got a lot longer than I was expecting it to, hence the wait. Hopefully no one will complain too much about that, right?

**Edit**: Now beta-ed, thanks to Deepsoul.

* * *

**Chapter 7 - Dark Water**

It felt like only seconds had passed between Alyssa's head hitting the pillow and her sudden shock into wakefulness. The twisted sheets felt like cold, clammy hands clawing at her limbs, and she disgustedly kicked them away and tried to recall where she'd left her armor the night before.

Another Entity. Was that normal? She'd been attacked only on the day of her birthday – one long, horror filled night – not on any of the days leading up to it, but then, if she stopped to think about it, she remembered a number of restless, sleepless nights leading up to that day. She'd thought it was simple homesickness, but maybe the Entities had been calling to her then, taunting her with the knowledge of her birthright. She almost considered asking Janine about it before remembering the commotion at dinner.

Janine had been declared overtired by the Baroness, and had retired quietly to her room for the rest of the evening with the rest of the family making sympathetic, nodding motions and continuing on as if nothing had happened. Alyssa wasn't sure what to believe, but even Marcus had deftly deflected her questions as he tried to coerce her into another dance. Alyssa had swiftly departed the party herself after that, her thoughts jumbling exhaustingly inside her head in a way that should have kept her tossing and turning for hours, but surprisingly she must have fallen asleep almost instantly. She appreciated the extra rest, because it seemed she was going to need it.

There was no one in the main room when she emerged, and she hovered indecisively for a moment. On one hand, the portal square in the attic above seemed to be resonating in time with her pulse. She knew how to activate it, and one part of her was almost eager to join the hunt immediately, righteousness and confidence mingling with fear and anticipation. On the other hand, it wasn't her house, and not her place to make those decisions. She had better at least inform Janine.

Her hand was poised to knock on the older girl's bedroom door when a voice snapped at her. "What do you think you're doing?"

Nadine looked a little rumpled, her eyes still smudged with makeup, and frayed strands of hair breaking away from her braid, but she managed enough dignity to glare at Alyssa ferociously. Alyssa was almost tempted to take a step back from the poison in that expression. "I was just-"

"Didn't you see my sister at dinner?" Nadine asked. "She's not well. Just leave her be."

"But the Entity-"

"Do you really think she's up for a hunt?" Nadine said, her voice rising with outrage. "Are you trying to get her killed?"

"No!" Alyssa retorted, wondering where this unexpected fury was coming from. She'd almost started to think that she and Nadine might actually get along, but the other girl's tone made her want to respond in kind. She wasn't stupid, and she didn't like the insult in Nadine's accusation. Janine obviously had seniority here, and if nothing else she should know what was going on.

"I can find the Entity myself," Nadine informed her. "I don't need Janine, and I don't need you."

"Don't be ridiculous, Nadine," Marcus called wearily from his own doorway. "We have to go together. You know the rules."

"My birthday is in two days," Nadine said, squaring her shoulders fiercely. "I can do this without help. Janine-"

"Still needs to be told," Marcus interrupted, holding his sister's gaze sternly which only made her indignant.

"So you're siding with her?" Nadine sneered, jerking her head in Alyssa's direction. "I should have known. You're only thinking about-"

"Enough!" he said, glaring back at his sister heatedly. There was an odd pressure in the air. Both of them seemed to be pushing out with whatever unseen powers they had, struggling for some kind of unfathomable victory.

Once again Alyssa had that sense of secrets passing unspoken, and had a feeling they had something to do with herself, but neither of the Bevelle's actions offered her any insight. Finally Marcus broke the stalemate. "We have to tell her. She can decide for herself if she's able to come or not."

Nadine crossed her arms unhappily, but conceded. "Fine."

"I'll wake her," he said, stepping cautiously between Alyssa and Nadine. "This will only take a minute."

He knocked quietly before entering Janine's room, leaving the two girls to glare at each other resentfully, though Alyssa's feelings were more bewildered. She wanted to ask Nadine why she was acting this way, but was wary of provoking the younger girl's temper. It seemed ridiculous that they were fighting amongst themselves when they were about to face an unknown Subordinate.

When Marcus emerged, Janine was with him, looking waner than before. Her lips were nearly bloodless, and her complexion made it seem as though she had an awful, oncoming case of the flu. She was also wearing her armor, and both Alyssa and Nadine immediately protested.

"You shouldn't be out of bed. Marcus, why did you-?"

"You don't look well, Janine," Alyssa said more tenuously. "Are you sure-"

"I'm _fine_," Janine said, sounding a little short herself, and that was enough to silence them both instantly. "Neither of you should even think of going out alone. Alyssa, you are our guest, and it's our duty to keep you safe. Nadine…" She gave her sister a look that spoke volumes. "You know the risks, and you know what Mother told us. I have to stay with you every time you go out, remember?"

Nadine squirmed uneasily, and despite her unhealthy pallor, Janine still had a commanding presence. "No one goes alone. Are we all clear on that?"

"Yes," they both mumbled, suitably chastened. Alyssa felt bad for that brief moment she'd considered going by herself, although she was now more worried about Janine than Nadine. A glance in the younger girl's direction suggested that a temporary truce was in order. Neither of them wanted to see Janine forced to run or fight in the condition she was in.

"Then let's go upstairs." Janine made a silent summoning motion with her hand, and Ralph teleported in beside her, bowing sardonically.

"Another midnight foray? How lucky." His lowered eyes slid unerringly to Alyssa, and it seemed his smirk was only for her. "Looks like we'll have that party after all."

She might have found his sly comment more amusing if he hadn't looked even worse than he had earlier that evening. The bones of his hands were an almost skeletal thinness, and standing next to Janine there was an unnerving similarity. The same lack of color, the same unsteadiness…but Ralph was not truly alive. He couldn't get sick and Alyssa didn't think he tired in quite the same way, so what was wrong with them?

None of the Bevelle's commented at all on Ralph's appearance, assuming they even noticed, and Alyssa's jaw clenched silently in frustration. Even if she found an opportunity to ask, she doubted anyone would tell her anything. Not even Ralph. Perhaps especially not him.

* * *

The worst part of the teleport was not the dizzy feeling of abruptly shifting locations. or the shivery feeling of magic. It was the sudden plunge into darkness, and those first harrowing seconds before her eyes adjusted to the new light, when she knew nothing about her surroundings and an attack could come from anywhere. Alyssa blinked rapidly, glad that she could hear the shift of Marcus's robes and Janine's heavy breathing at her back because she couldn't actually see them.

Without sight she strained her other senses for clues and nearly gagged at the smell. A fetid, slimy stench that reminded her of the sewer Corroder had chased her through. Like corpses rotting in water. She tried not to think about it, but even the air was damp and clammy, and she could hear the trickling and splashing of water that was somehow below and around her. A few cold drops rained from above and she knew it wasn't rain.

"What is this place?" Nadine asked in a hushed voice, taking an uncertain step, making the metal beneath her shoes ring. Alyssa was only just starting to be able to see through the murky shadows, but they seemed to be on some kind of platform. It wasn't very large, barely able to contain the size of the Portal. She groped blindly and found the soft glint of light near her waist was a railing, but it trembled at her touch. She wouldn't trust her life to it.

"I'm not sure," Janine replied, looking around. "It feels large in here. Some kind of factory?"

It wasn't quite like anything Alyssa had ever seen. Peering over the edge she could see the ripple of water just a few feet below. She felt around her side of the platform a little more. "There's a walkway over here."

"And here too," Nadine said from some place over to Alyssa's right. "But I can't tell where it goes."

"I could make some light," Marcus offered.

"It might draw the Entity right to us," Janine said, sounding uneasy. "I don't like this. There's not much room to maneuver and this ground doesn't feel very stable. We should find some place more solid."

Alyssa was all too happy to agree. "I think there's more light in this direction. Let me go first."

Nadine muttered something indecipherable under her breath which Alyssa pretended not to notice. She needed her concentration to focus on her footing. Janine was right; the platform didn't seem to appreciate the sudden weight it was forced to support, and the thin walkway was even worse. It swayed drunkenly, forcing her to grip the fragile rail against her better judgment. She could only take slow, inching steps, spurred on by Nadine's silent impatience and her own anxiousness at being uncertainly suspended over the faceless water. Ahead, though she could barely make it out in the gloom, a weak beam of light illuminated her salvation. "I think there's another platform up here-"

She shouldn't have spoken, because her voice seemed to break the precarious equilibrium she'd achieved, and the walkway suddenly screeched and shuddered, dropping unexpectedly as the path behind her gave way. Alyssa shrieked as freezing water climbed up to her knees, but driven by instinct she dragged herself forward using the rail which surprisingly did not give out as easily as she'd suspected. The walkway was still connected to the platform, and though she had to pull herself up the steep incline, she made it back onto dry land, shaking slightly from the adrenalin.

"Alyssa!"

"Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," she said unevenly, trying to banish the memory of the inky, hungry water. It smelled even worse up close, and she could have sworn that she'd felt something move against her ankle in the moment it had been submerged. "But the walkway broke. I don't think you can cross."

Janine swore softly, and Alyssa could hear movement from the other platform. It gave her time to climb to her feet and scowl at the uncomfortable sensation of water in her boots.

"She's right," Nadine said, her voice distorted in the darkness. "It's dropped right into the water. Unless anyone feels like a swim…?"

Alyssa blanched at the mere thought. "Don't worry about me. I'll find another way around."

"Damn," Marcus cursed softly.

Janine sounded distraught. "Are you sure?"

"I can join her, if you wish," Ralph said, his voice not at all hushed by the heavy atmosphere as theirs were. "No one should go alone, right?"

It was an artful reminder of Janine's own words. Alyssa dimly recalled that Ralph hadn't actually been present for that part of the conversation…or at least, not visibly present. It didn't surprise her much to discover he must have been lurking around. He must have enjoyed the taste of their argument.

"Do it," Janine ordered before Nadine could voice her objection. "Keep her safe. We'll try to meet up as soon as possible."

Alyssa heard the air whisper softly before Ralph appeared beside her, and for a moment the flash of light from his materialization blinded her. When it faded the angles of his face were like a skull in the darkness, his bone-white smile seeming pleased. "Just like old times, isn't it Alyssa?"

"I will push you over this rail," she threatened quietly, trying to shake water from her legs even though it wouldn't remove the slimy feeling of it having been there in the first place.

He chuckled loudly. "It's always been a pleasure to work with you." His voice dropped suddenly, and he leaned close to her ear. "But isn't my company much better than theirs?"

She wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of a yes, though she suspected she might have been even happier going alone. Ralph was getting her flustered already. "Which way do we go?"

"Over here, I think." His hand found hers with surprising accuracy, and he directed her to the opposite side of the platform. His ghostly grin leered back at her. "The benefit of coming with me, besides my charming companionship, is that I can see much better in the dark than you."

She found that more disconcerting than not, and for a moment wondered how much of her he could see before dismissing the thought as silly and irrelevant. She allowed him to lead, groping hesitantly in the dark while he seemed to have no trouble at all. When her halting steps slowed him down he pulled her closer, his other hand brushing her cheek unseen. "What's the matter? Don't you trust me?"

No was the obvious answer, but that wasn't entirely truthful. She trusted him to lead her safely. She trusted him to warn her if there was any sort of danger, and perhaps to help pull her to safety if she happened to fall into the water again…but she did not trust the way his fingers seemed to be tracing soft circles on her palm. It might have been a trick of her imagination, but she doubted it. He likely knew he could get away with it when she couldn't afford to let him go. She made a face that she hoped he could see. "Don't be ridiculous."

Let him interpret it how he wished. He seemed all too fond of ambiguous banter. She could sense him about to give a smirking reply when the charge in the air changed, suddenly serious instead of playful. She gripped his hand hard, voice lowered to a whisper. "What?"

She'd almost forgotten to be afraid, but now she remembered what they were supposed to be hunting, and belatedly realized that they should have tried to make less noise. It was hard because Ralph seemed completely fearless, but then he knew exactly what to expect from other Subordinates. They would hardly impress him.

"I think we should move a little quicker," he said lightly, but his grip on her was firm in guiding her onward. She tried not to resist him even though the catwalk was nearly invisible below her. Her hand clutched the neck of her bottle of holy water.

"What is it?" she asked again, wishing she could see more than dismal outlines.

"Something. Maybe." Her glare almost made his smile return, but his eyes were dark and serious. "I should warn you that I'm not…at my best. If something comes for us, you should run. Don't wait for me."

She stared at him, bewildered by this sudden change in attitude. "I will not-"

"Yes you will," Ralph said, his tone brooking no argument. "I would be very disappointed if you were to die here, Alyssa. It would end the game too quickly. That wouldn't be any fun at all. Besides, my orders were to keep you safe."

She didn't know what to think, but the words that came from her mouth were spoken with little regard for anything but their truth. "You can't keep me safe if you're not with me. Don't do anything stupid."

Ralph made a quiet noise, as though amused by her concern. "Well that depends on-"

He stopped mid-step and mid-word, listening sharply. Alyssa held her breath as he let her go and stepped forward alone, his tread completely silent. She didn't dare speak, for the stillness was threatening and watchful, but she abruptly missed his presence at her side. At least then she knew he was there. Now she could barely make out the line of his profile as he glanced around, stepping close to the rail and leaning out as though searching for something in the water. The sound of it had risen subtly, now rushing as it moved beneath them to some unknown destination.

It was too loud, she thought nervously. She couldn't hear anything else, nor was she able to see the thing that reached from the water and grabbed her calf.

She screamed in earnest as she was suddenly yanked to the side. Whatever had her was strong, it's grip on her leg painfully bruising, and only the railing saved her although it bent alarmingly under her weight and the force that pulled at her. She fumbled in panic for her holy water, and made the mistake of looking down. Even with only thin threads of light streaming from above she could see all too well. The hand on her leg seemed slim and fine-boned, but the nails were long and sharp and the skin was mottled a gruesome shade of green. Thick chains were wrapped around the thumb and down the wrist, down the arm…and staring up from just beneath the water's surface was something too hideous to be called a face, but even without light she saw the large, lidless yellow eyes. A dark maw below them showed a toothless mouth opened wide in a silent scream.

She kept her bottle uncapped for situations where she had to react quickly, but her hands were shaking so badly she could barely aim the holy water. A lot of it spilled uselessly, wasting more than she could afford, but a few droplets managed to land on the thing's arm. There was a frothing thrash from the face in the water, and the hand on her leg let go and vanished back beneath the surface. It didn't make her feel any better. Now she just couldn't see it.

Ralph's hands were on her shoulders. She'd barely felt them, but he was probably the only reason she hadn't fallen in whilst struggling for her bottle. He pulled her away from the edge and helped her limp along the catwalk. Her leg ached all the way down to her toes.

"What was that?" she gasped, trying not to wince in pain every time she had to put her weight on it. "That face, it wasn't-!"

"Human?" Ralph asked, his voice level and steadying despite the circumstances. "It would have been once, but not all of us prefer to stay that way. Being joined with an Entity makes the body more malleable. Didn't you ever wonder where people get their monster stories?"

She shuddered in revulsion. She'd thought herself prepared for anything…but not that. Not something so unnatural. The human mind rejected its very existence.

"We need to get away from the water," she said. "It could be right below us."

The catwalk wobbled suddenly, nearly knocking Alyssa off her feet, but Ralph's supernatural balance kept her pressed to his side. There was a horrible screech of metal scraping metal, and the catwalk groaned anew in response to a new, heavier weight. Alyssa could feel the vibrations of it under her feet. Ralph subtly moved to shield her. "Actually, it's in front of us."

She licked her dry lips. "I see it."

She wished she couldn't, but her eyes finally seemed to be adjusting to the lack of light. It was a woman, or it had started as one, but the proportions were all wrong. She could see those same dainty hands that had tried to pull her into the water, but now she could also see that the arms they were attached to were far too long and jointed in at least three places. Her body was wrapped in shreds of what might have been a white dress, now kept to her distorted torso only by the chain twined around it; the same one that spiraled down her arms. They seemed to weigh her down, curving her spine grotesquely until her head was nearly level with her knees. Her face was hidden by the dripping, tangled curtain of her hair.

Alyssa's heart was hammering so loudly she almost missed it when she spoke. The sound was a harsh, gurgling string of syllables that seemed to make no sense. Alyssa blinked in bewilderment, but the same sound was repeated before melting into recognizable speech, "I knew I sensed your meddling here."

Ralph smiled, an expression made entirely of sharp edges. "I'm sorry, you've mistaken me for someone else."

"No, it _is_ you!" she screeched, her elongated arms snapping forward to drag her body along the catwalk. Alyssa took a frightful step back. Ralph held his ground. "What more are you trying to take? This is _my_ place! _My_ time!"

Her dark head turned towards Alyssa, rising slightly in surprise, and Alyssa caught a glimpse of those terrible yellow eyes again. "I see you're still using Rooders to do your dirty work. How many of us are you going to kill?"

"Anyone who gets in my way," Ralph replied, flexing his hands, and a ghostly outline of his scissor-blades appeared. Their image wavered precariously, and a brief look of actual consternation crossed his face when they nearly faded completely, but it seemed through sheer determination he made them solidify. Even so, they seemed oddly fragile to Alyssa, too slender and not quite as sharp. He gave her a meaningful backward glance. "This is when you should run."

She didn't trust her voice to speak, but she determinedly shook her head.

He sighed, crossing the blades until the steel rang loudly. The noise must have brought him some kind of comfort because she couldn't think of any other reason he should be smiling. "I should have known I would die for you a second time."

There was no chance to ask him what he meant. The Subordinate seemed enraged by the sight of Ralph's weapons, and stretched out with one of her misshapen arms as though to pluck them from his grip. He snipped at her wrist, but the blades caught more chain than flesh, making her screech with more anger than pain. Alyssa could still see the burns from her small sprinkle of holy water, and reached for her bottle again. Maybe if she could drench the Subordinate properly she could drive it off, or at least buy them an opportunity to flee.

"Your throne will be mine, traitor!" the woman shrieked, though her words were difficult to discern, marred by both fury and the scratchy, disused quality to her voice. "And I will eat your Rooder's heart!"

Her arm swung like a whip, unnaturally fluid and faster than Alyssa would have expected from such a deformed creature. The chain at her wrist had been loosened for extra reach. Ralph barely caught it with the cross of his blades, but realized a moment too late that the move lashed them uselessly together. The shadow of her horrible smirk could be seen beneath tendrils of dark hair as she savagely yanked her arm back.

The scissor-blades snapped, the metal fracturing completely as though they had been made of porcelain instead of steel. One of the hilts was thrown from his grasp, landing in the water with a splash. The second was little more than a stump, not long enough to do even a dagger justice. Ralph stared at it, distraught. The Subordinate laughed hoarsely. "Your trickery won't save you now."

She obviously hadn't expected Ralph to throw the remnant of his weapon at her face. His aim was eerily accurate, and the splintered end of the blade impacted near her eye. She screamed, lashing out blindly, and for the first time Alyssa noticed that the last few links of her chains were not rounded, but sharpened to jagged edges on all sides. Ralph was a moment too slow in leaping back and had nothing left to block with. He cried out in pain as blood splashed on the platform, the inky black of the subordinate and his own which was an all-too-human crimson.

"No!" Alyssa caught him as he fell, her own injury forgotten as she clumsily tried to keep him upright. Warm wetness soaked against her side, dripping down her legs, but she couldn't spare time to check the depth of the wound. The Subordinate's thrashing was shaking the platform wildly, and Ralph's weight was limp, though he wasn't that heavy. His eyes were open but he seemed stunned, as though the pain came as a surprise.

"Come on!" She was strong enough to carry him if she had to. Her only thought was to run, to get off the catwalk before it sank again. A heavy splash and a sudden silence indicated the Subordinate had returned to the water, overbalanced or otherwise, but she didn't look back. Looking any direction but forward would make her lose momentum and then she might freeze. Panic was too close to the surface, she could barely breathe, and the ripples in the water seemed like a hundred eyes staring up hungrily at her.

"I wonder if dying in the line of duty gives me a bonus on the terms of my sentence," Ralph murmured drowsily near her ear. With his arm was slung over her shoulder, his head was drooped so close to hers that she could feel the flutter of his eyelashes against her cheek. "It should, don't you agree."

"Don't talk," she grunted, trying to remember what lay back along the path they had come from. Could they make it to the portal square? It had seemed like a long time ago, walking in the dark, but it was the only hope for safety they had. Hopefully she still had enough holy water to activate it, and he'd figure out how to cross that last gap when she came to it. No time to think, just move!

But Ralph unexpectedly dug his heels in. "Wait, Alyssa."

She would have dragged him onward by force if she hadn't been worried about doing more harm to his injury. Tension made her limbs shiver, and she looked to him urgently. "We need to keep going."

"I might have…one more spell left in me," he said, his breathing harsh and shallow. He offered her a weak impostor of his usual grin, patting her cheek indulgently. "Let's hope I can manage it before she destroys our footing."

Alyssa went cold. "What?"

The catwalk buckled, and noise of twisted metal mingled with the Subordinate's victorious shriek. They were thrown to the side, Alyssa's back connecting hard with the rail before the entire walkway was ripped from its support struts and overturned completely by the Subordinate's inhuman strength. Alyssa had only time to gulp a mouthful of air before they both went under.

The water was shockingly cold, driving any thought from her mind. She should struggle, kick to the surface, but for a moment she was paralyzed. The presence of the Subordinate was like the draw of a current under the water. She could feel it, feel tendrils of hair amidst the bubbles, feel those icy fingers clawing for her neck, but at the same time Ralph's arms were still around her. He squeezed her reassuringly, and suddenly there was light in the dark water. Bright and warm and welcoming, and all of a sudden the water was gone, along with Ralph and every one of her senses, and she was simply nowhere at all.


	8. Chapter 8

**Author's Note:** X3 Quick update! I bet you all weren't expecting that, were you? Truth be told, I've been waiting for this chapter for a long time. Lots of nice plot things hinted at. Lots of tempting lures to keep you all guessing. I very much enjoy being the puppet master making them all dance on my stage here. Once again, I would like to thank everyone for the lovely reviews I've recieved up until now, especially on the last chapter, and special thanks to Deepsoul who polishes up my work better than I ever could.

**Edit:** Now beta-ed!

* * *

**Chapter 8 - Threads of the Spider's Web**

Alyssa's head was pounding when she awoke, and in those first few moments of bleary awareness she was suddenly eight years old again and staggering cheerfully away from the merry-go-round into her Grandfather's waiting arms. The image of his face in her memory, even tinted by the blurry happiness of her childhood, was enough to shock her back to the clarity of _wet, cold, hurt, where am I? _

She was dripping wet and cold to the point of numbness. Raising her head cautiously sent alarms of pain shooting right up her spine. Even the nearly-forgotten acid burn on her arm was revoicing its complaints, along with the new sharp lines of agony around her neck where the Subordinate had clawed her. Moving tentatively, she managed to crawl onto her hands and knees, choking down a miserable groan as her raw skin burned at even the touch of air and her head swam dizzily.

What had happened? She remembered the water, and those brief suffocating moments when the Subordinate had clawed her and she couldn't draw breath to scream. Looking around in bewilderment she didn't recognize her surroundings. It was still dark and damp, and the smell was the same, but there was no river of dark water, to her overwhelming relief. Just moss-covered walls and an unidentifiable brown muck on the floor that squished unpleasantly under her knees.

Ralph had done something, she remembered with sudden clarity. A last spell, he had said. Her reeling sense of vertigo made her wonder if maybe he had somehow managed to teleport. Certainly they must have gotten away somehow…but with that reminder the fear gripped again. The Subordinate might still be nearby and Ralph was-

Alyssa glanced around wildly, ignoring the way the ground seemed to be rocking gently in time with her heart beat, but his hand rested not too far from her own. She almost breathed a sigh of relief until she noticed that where it wasn't covered by his gloves, the pale pallor of his skin had gone a deathly shade of blue.

She crawled over to him awkwardly, ignoring her assorted hurts and the heavy cling of wet armor. Even to her own freezing hands, his skin felt cold and clammy when she touched his shoulder. She whispered his name urgently. "Ralph?"

Eyelids twitched as though he tried to rise to consciousness, but they remained closed. His breathing was harsh and shallow, and his mouth was pulled in a pained grimace. His other arm was curled around the wound at his side, and she nervously tried to move it so she could gauge the depth of the cut. At her gentle prodding he made a noise – too soft to be a groan, nearly a whimper – but when she looked worriedly to his face it was still. It was as though the surreal state of ageless immortality had slipped away from him. He seemed horribly alive, but clinging with a terrifyingly fragile grip.

It was more than the wound, though that obviously wasn't helping. He was…fading, was the only word she could think of it. Even his clothes and the colourful tips in his hair seemed dull, and where she was used to feeling his presence like the energetic hum of a bee in flight, it was now almost silent, and she didn't know why.

Never had she had the opportunity to scrutinize his face unguarded, but without his wicked eyes it seemed like a different person. Like Ralph had gone and left only a lifeless mannequin in his place. If only it were a glorious joke he was using to scare her with.

"Wake up," she pleaded with urgency, her voice wobbling unsteadily.

"He won't," an unexpected voice replied.

Alyssa scrambled for her bottle of holy water as instincts screamed that it was too late, and the danger was already beside her, but her arm stilled at the sight of the young man. He knelt placidly, reaching out with slender fingers to touch Ralph's hair in a way that was almost…affectionate. He turned his steady gaze on her. "He is dying."

His hair was the palest white-blond, and his eyes were an icy blue that reminded her of how cold the air was, but the rest of his features were almost bland in their normalcy. A straight nose, thin lips. He also had two piercings in the ear she could see, and a tattoo on his neck that trailed downward to his collarbones before disappearing beneath his jacket.

He looked out of place in the small, grimy tunnel, his clothing a mesh of hyper-modern and grunge with no definable style, but then between her armor and Ralph's jester colours she supposed he could do worse.

"He…he needs a doctor," she said after only one false start, and that was mostly surprise to see anyone down here at all. Her fear was ebbing with renewed determination, and she couldn't feel any threat from this man…or was it boy? His age was somehow indeterminable, though she was sure at least that he was older than herself.

"It isn't the wound," he told her. His expression gave her nothing, and as she frowned in confusion he added, "The Rooder who summoned him is losing her power. It will be gone soon, and when it goes then the pact that keeps him here will be broken."

She stared openly, too surprised by his candidness to move. "Excuse me?"

He smiled in that unnerving, sharp-edged way that reminder her too much of Ralph. She suddenly worried that she had misjudged this stranger, but all he said to her was, "If you want to save him, you'll have to act quickly. The third death is final."

"Final…?" Perhaps she wasn't truly awake yet. Maybe she was still dreaming, and this man was as much of a figment of the mind as her Grandfather had been, but the stark pains that she was all too aware of now suggested otherwise.

He gave her a mild, admonishing look, as though her lack of understanding disappointed him. "If he is sent back to the Hall of Judgment, by mortal wound or dissolution of the pact, he will never be able to return to this plane of existence. Even if he were willing, the summoning ritual would not work again."

He watched her shrewdly, even though his expression seemed dismissive. "With the eldest child losing her powers as we speak, the younger will have no one left to protect her when the time of trial comes, and you will lose yourself valuable ally."

Janine's unexplained sickness…was the loss of her powers really the cause? Alyssa had never thought to study what happened to a Rooder when they finally crossed the threshold to adulthood and lost their abilities. It did seem to explain why Ralph's decline had mimicked hers, and why the weakness had mirrored in both of them, but this new information only made her more wary.

"Who are you?" she asked, silently gauging how much water was left in her flask by the weight of it. She wasn't quite sure it would even be able to protect her in the situation - the man didn't feel like a Subordinate, though he did give her a strange feeling – but if nothing else it was solid enough that she could probably bean him over the head with it. The thought gave her strength to look into his eyes, but there was no hint of either defensiveness or challenge.

"Someone who owes him a favor," he replied, glancing sidelong at Ralph whose breathing was only becoming shallower as the minutes passed. "And I'm sure he'd prefer not to return to his sentence just yet. Things are just starting to get interesting again."

It was odd how he delivered the line with no inflection whatsoever. In fact, emotion seemed to slip from his features as though it didn't quite belong there. Even his smile had passed quickly, leaving not a trace behind, and she wasn't at all sure how to take the revelation that this was someone Ralph must have known from his time as a Subordinate. Such a thought had never crossed her mind, that there might have been anyone besides Jemima and their victims.

Ralph took a sudden, shuddering breath, and for a few harrowing seconds there was silence. He wasn't moving, wasn't breathing. Alyssa gripped his limp hand with a ferocity she didn't understand, wondering why her own heartbeat seemed to have ceased. "No…"

"Shh," the stranger quieted her, reaching calmly to where Ralph's pulse should have been beating below his jaw line. She couldn't explain what he did, but the air seemed to tingle with an electric buzz, and even though Ralph's inhale was only a near inaudible hiss at least he was still alive. She kept grip on Ralph so as not to let the man see how badly her hands were shaking from that brief scare.

"It won't be long now," he warned her lowly.

She lowered her head, wishing inexplicably that her mother was there to help guide her decisions…but her mother was long dead and hadn't been around for a good number of years anyway. Alyssa had learned to trust her gut feelings. They rarely steered her wrong. "How can I save him?"

The man smiled, and this time the expression lasted more than a few seconds. "The Bevelle's have a ritual. I can tell you how to perform it, albeit without the preparation or props that help ease the process. If you succeed, you will reaffirm the pact that keeps him bound to Rooder service in this world, and your stronger powers should allow him to heal."

"And if I fail?"

His expression faded back to neutrality. "Then he will be chained to his imprisonment long after his sister has returned to a more peaceful afterlife, and the Bevelle girl will have lost two protectors on the eve of her birthday. I cannot guarantee she would live long enough to turn fifteen. There are those who would see the Bevelle line dwindle to nothing."

Reaching into his jacket, he pulled out a knife. Alyssa tensed, but he offered it to her hilt first. It felt strange in her hand, long and slender and oddly light, but the edge looked razor sharp.

"Now isn't the time for self-doubt," he said. "Your destiny has more in store for you than this. It is too early for you to fail."

He spoke in riddles, just like Ralph. For some strange reason she almost found that reassuring. She thumbed the edge of the knife, her mouth dry. "What's this for?"

Blue eyes glinted in the dark. "The first step. It's a little messy, but don't worry. Ralph shouldn't feel a thing."

* * *

It was like carrying an enormous weight on her shoulders. Alyssa wondered how Janine had managed it, but then she probably hadn't been forced to perform the ritual in a dark, rank tunnel with none of the right tools. The white haired man had warned her that the transition period would be rough, but Alyssa wondered if she would ever be able to stand again.

She desperately wanted to sleep. Her body was trying to tell her that it was well into the early hours on the morning now, although who knew what time it really was outside this place. Her body was leaden, but every distant echo made her start. She'd also been informed that the surge of Rooder magic might draw some attention, either by the Bevelles or the Subordinate. She waited in hope and in fear, because if it was the latter than she didn't think she could move, and Ralph had yet to wake.

If there was an improvement in his condition, she couldn't tell, though at least his breathing seemed easier now. She found it hard to look at him now. Parts of the ritual had been less savory than she'd expected, making her wonder how exactly it was usually performed. Every time she looked at him flashes of memory returned with suffocating vividness. She could still hear the whispers in her ear, telling her what to say, what to do, softly encouraging her as blood welled under the tip of the knife…

She was decidedly glad that Ralph had been unconscious throughout, and hopefully wouldn't know what had transpired. He was still here, at least, which offered her some small comfort. She kept his hand on her knee, her own fingers at his pulse so she could be sure he was still alive without needing to watch the subtle movement of his chest for breath. The strong beat gave her constant reassurance that she had done it, but drained as she felt there was no sense of victory. Just anticipation, and the endless wait.

Alyssa tried to plan what to do next, but her thoughts kept scattering to nothing. She needed to find out what had happened to the others. She needed to get back to the portal. She needed to find the Subordinate's name. She needed to convince her body to stand, although her legs informed her that it wasn't going to happen any time soon, and she needed to find out who that stranger was. He had vanished as mysteriously as he'd appeared, with not a word on her success besides '_It is done.'_

"But your name," she had said, still shaking from the effort and the unexpected burden the pact had placed on her. She'd only barely managed to speak before the man's footsteps had faded entirely, his departure sudden and unexpected. "So I can tell Ralph who helped us."

"My name would have no meaning. He does not know it." A moment of consideration passed. "But I have a message you could pass to him instead…"

His cryptic words had meant nothing to her. She wasn't even sure she had heard them correctly, tired as she was. It was a chore to rouse herself every so often to check her surroundings, hoping that maybe she would hear Janine's voice, or maybe see a new source of light to lead her out of the tunnel as the hours turned. She was not lucky enough for either, but as her gaze swept briefly over Ralph she noticed a change. His eyes were open, dark and empty, almost animal-like. His head shifted uncomprehendingly to follow her when she leaned over him anxiously.

"Are you awake?" she asked cautiously, thinking only a moment too late that it might not be wise to speak at all. She didn't like the blankness in his expression, stripped of all humanity, or at least the convincing illusion of it that he maintained. It felt like facing down a previously tamed wolf and wondering if it might suddenly decide to bite, but then his lips twitched. An attempt at a smirk.

"So not only are you a devious voyeur," he said rustily, "but you also take advantage of helpless young men in the dark. Really, Alyssa, what a wicked girl you are."

The abrupt realization that his lips were only inches from her own made her rear back, throwing his arm from her lap as if it were a live snake. He laughed, coughing painfully as he did so, and her biting retort was immediately waylaid by concern. To her annoyance, her exasperation also felt too much like relief.

"Don't do that. You'll hurt yourself," she said pragmatically, putting her hands on his chest to ease the convulsions, determined to ignore any comment he might make on it.

"I never did have much of a taste for my own pain," he murmured thickly, his eyelids struggling against the weight of his lashes.

"Does it hurt much?" she asked, carefully peeling back the ruined silk of his vest to check the injury. The mottled bruising and shredded flesh made her grimace, and blood made the fabric stiff and sticky, but despite the mess she thought the wound was looking better than before.

He propped himself up to look for himself, despite her attempt to still him. There was a bright, fascinated look as he looked over the gash, but as he dipped his fingers in the blood his expression turned contemplative.

"Not as much as it should." He licked the crimson liquid from his thumb, savoring it thoughtfully before turning his penetrating gaze on Alyssa. "What have you done?"

He sounded more intrigued than anything. Alyssa looked away. "I need to go find the others. They need to know about the Subordinate, if they haven't run into her already. Will you be okay if I leave you here?"

"I don't think you can walk any better than I can," he said, sounding more awake as realization apparently began to dawn on him. She couldn't decipher the look he gave her at all. "I see what you did…"

He touched his forehead, and though he wouldn't find a mark there her flinch told him what he needed to know. "But where did you learn it? Those books are kept locked in a study. Did you manage to take them when my back was turned, perhaps? Or maybe the boy spilled family secrets in your ear in return for that dance you gave him."

"No!" she protested, not sure if it embarrassed her more to be accused of stealing or giving party favors. "There was someone else here…"

"_Here_?" he repeated with just the right note of incredulity to mock her, looking pointedly up at the damp, moss-covered ceiling.

"A man," she persisted, glaring at him. "He didn't tell me his name but he said he owed you a favor."

To her disappointment, Ralph looked neither surprised nor enlightened. He merely said, "Hmm."

"He did have a message for you though." She hesitated even when he looked at her expectantly, because she still wasn't sure if she had heard it correctly. It had sounded like so much gibberish to her, but maybe Ralph would understand. "He said it's time to cull the weeds, the garden is overgrown. And to," she frowned, but gamely finished, "use the same shears."

Any uncertainty she had about misunderstanding the stranger's words was banished in an instant. Ralph's expression warmed, overcome with such unexpected delight that she almost wanted to back away from him. Any joy of his was probably associated with violence or death in some fashion, but she wasn't sure what the odd gardening metaphor had to do with it.

"No wonder she thought I was…well. How very interesting," he said, directing a gleeful smile at Alyssa that only made her more bewildered. With no preamble he sat up and levered himself to his feet, seemingly shrugging off the injury as though it were a mere scratch instead of grievous, unnaturally invigorated.

She stared at him. "What are you doing? You shouldn't-"

"We shouldn't linger here, Alyssa. No time to waste! Don't forget that my former mistress will be facing the enemy all by herself now. We wouldn't want to come too late to help her."

Ralph didn't actually sound like he was especially worried over Nadine's health, but the words spurred Alyssa into action. Even if she didn't especially like the girl, Alyssa didn't want to see her killed. If the stranger had been right, Janine was now powerless, and she wasn't sure if Marcus would be any use against the Subordinate. She might not be at her best, but Nadine would most likely need her help against that creature.

In the end, Ralph had to help pull her to her feet, smiling gaily for no good reason Alyssa could figure. She was relieved that she didn't have to leave him behind and go on by herself, but equally nervous at his sudden buoyancy. Her instincts told her it couldn't have any good cause.

"How are we going to find them?" Alyssa asked, since hopefully Ralph would know more about where they had ended up after the teleport.

"It's perfectly easy," he said. "Just choose the direction you least like the feel of and that's where we'll go."

She gave him an incredulous look but he seemed perfectly and cheerfully serious. With a dubious glance at their surroundings she decided one of the off-shoot tunnels gave her a chilling feeling. "That way?"

"Oh, but you're too good at this," he praised. She had no idea if he was genuine or not but he did take a few steps towards it, stopping only when he realized she was reluctant to follow. He tilted his head quizzically. "Don't tell me you'd rather stay here."

"No." _Definitely not_. "But what's going on? That person who helped us, who was he?"

"I haven't a clue," Ralph pronounced slickly, and Alyssa got the sense that he was somehow being truthful without giving the whole truth.

"But what are we going to do? You're wounded and I'm nearly out of holy water, and we still need the name-"

"I'm sure you'll find it, Alyssa. Destiny doesn't want you to fail."

Her blood ran cold. Hadn't the stranger said something almost exactly like that? But Ralph blithely continued, "In fact, I think you'll find the rules of the game just shifted in your favor. I told you your presence would throw everything to chaos and it has."

"What are you talking about? I haven't done anything-"

"You have," Ralph corrected her, his eyes gleaming. "And you will. I can tell you how."

"How to _what_?"

"How to destroy the Subordinate and the Entity completely, all in one blow." Ralph sounded positively smug. "It's a trick that any Rooder would sell her soul for, don't you agree? But it won't be of any use to you unless you hurry up now."

In a trance of complete bewilderment, Alyssa stumbled after him.


	9. Chapter 9

**Author's Note:** Another quick update. :3 It's a blue moon! There are some rather underhanded game references in this chapter, so if you haven't played it recently, I reccomend it. Of particular interest to me were the two statues in the room where Alyssa finds the old Rooder Arrow beneath Chopper's graveyard. Interesting choice in decorations, yes?

**Edit:** Now beta-ed. And it's not Deepsoul who's slow, it's me. :(

* * *

**Chapter 9 - The Troubles You Sink In.**

Alyssa felt much older than her mere sixteen years as she limped beside Ralph. Her bones felt stiff and brittle, and she was sure that if the Subordinate was stalking them she would fail to notice out of exhaustion. Her only reassurance, if you could call it that, was the growing feeling of dread that got stronger as they went forward. Surely that meant the Subordinate was in front of them, not behind.

Ralph seemed certain, but then his bizarre buoyancy didn't encourage her trust. Even though he still favored his wounded side he walked briskly, humming some inane tune as though he didn't have a care in the world. She half-wondered if he'd snapped; certainly his sanity had always been questionable, and her own was being pushed to its limits with his erratic behavior.

"Would you stop that?" she snapped, remembering at the last second to keep her voice hushed even though Ralph was making no attempt to be quiet. Much to her surprise he actually did stop, looking back over his shoulder with a wide smile of impertinence.

"So sorry," he said, his words dripping with false sincerity. "Just trying to lighten the mood."

"Well you're not." Her nerves were frayed enough without him adding to her irritation.

"No need to be so tense, Alyssa," he teased. "I'm sure we'll find them soon."

His baseless confidence was almost as annoying as the humming, although she had to admit it kept her grounded while her mind was pulling blindly in a dozen different directions**,** trying to figure out what they were going to do next. She didn't remember it being like this on her birthday. Back then there had only been the stubborn determination to keep going, keep looking, keep running before she was caught. Her instincts had kept her always moving in the right direction.

Maybe it was because she was tired, or maybe because she'd already passed the peak hour of her abilities, but she couldn't find her way in this dreadful place. There was no lure to lead her to the Subordinate's victims, or to the hidden notes that had unlocked the secrets of the Entities. She didn't like that. Without Ralph she would have been lost altogether, and she still didn't know how they were going to find the name, although the words of the white-haired stranger had made her think. Unlike Edgar, this current Subordinate had obviously been around for a while, with thirty six kills to her name and very few shreds of her humanity left.

"This Subordinate," she began uncertainly. "Did you know her? Back when you were still…"

She wasn't sure exactly how to specify his time as a Subordinate. Still alive? But from what she'd found out he'd already died at least once after being possessed**,** so that wasn't quite the right word.

"No." His answer seemed a little curt, and she worried that maybe she'd over-stepped by bringing up a topic that might remind him of his current separation from his sister. Catching her eye, however, he simply shrugged and elaborated, "Our kind come and go through time. I never bothered to keep track."

"Oh." If he could have given her the name, that would have made things much easier. "But you must have known a few others, right?"

Now she was fishing, and Ralph seemed to know it. She'd hoped that maybe in his good mood he might slip and give her a hint as to the stranger's identity. His smirk told her he was wise to the trick, but just as she was bracing for disappointment he surprised her with a tangent.

"Do you know how often Subordinates have banded together for a common goal?"

She blinked in confusion, thinking back to everything she'd read on the subject**,** and came up uncertainly blank. "No?"

"It's happened only four times. Ever. And that includes your fifteenth birthday."

"Only four?" Alyssa boggled slightly. The Entities had been around for two thousand years at least. "How come?"

"Our agendas are too different. You can't understand, Alyssa. In fact, it's probably better that you don't. The things the Entities want, the way their hierarchy works…even most Subordinates never really comprehend it. In their world, there is only one prize, and only one may possesses it. That's why we don't work together…unless it's _really_ important."

"And…my birthday? That was important?"

"Oh yes," he purred. "More so than any of the others."

"But why?"

"Lots of reasons," he answered obliquely, earning himself a wrathful glare that made him laugh. "Oh come on, Alyssa. It's more fun if you try to work it out on your own."

"I'm not in the mood for guessing," she ground out. "Tell me!"

Her vision flashed with white light, startling her completely. Rooder magic flared around them, driving away the darkness and the murky stench of mildew, and Ralph hissed in sudden pain, his hand clutching blindly at his forehead. For just a second Alyssa saw the symbols, cut into the flesh just as they had been during the ritual, but this time they didn't bleed and as the magic faded so did they, leaving the skin flawless as ever.

Ralph seemed distinctly satisfied. "Ah."

"I'm sorry," Alyssa said, not exactly sure what she was apologizing for, but that magic had been her own even though she hadn't consciously controlled it**.** "I don't know what happened."

"So I'd guessed." Ralph thoughtfully traced where the wounds had appeared a moment ago. "He didn't tell you anything about the ritual, did he? What these marks mean."

She shook her head mutely. Ralph's smile was brittle. "Too many secrets. I suppose I deserved that."

"I didn't mean to-"

"It doesn't matter. If it's answers you want, I'm obliged to give them to you…Mistress."

She stopped in mid-step. "Don't call me that."

He leered cheerfully. "You wanted to know why your birthday was important, so here is the truth, Alyssa. Your death was practically assured from the beginning. You did not know what you were, you had no one to guide you, and we were many whilst you were alone. With your death, the Hamilton line would end. Thanks to your grandfather, our number would grow whilst one of the most powerful Rooder clans was wiped out completely. It was destiny!"

She didn't like the way that word was being so casually thrown around, but Ralph wasn't finished. "The only unknown was the possibility of you possessing a natural ability for the craft of your bloodline, which is why so many of us were set against you. They had to be sure, you see. The way the Entities weave their way through time depends on how well they predict the actions of mortals. They bet on lives like men bet on horses, and your death was the fixed race. They all knew how it was going to end."

He checked her face for comprehension, smirking indulgently when he didn't find it. "You needn't worry about the details. Sufficed to say, your birthday was important to many besides your Grandfather and my Lord Burroughs, but there was one who thought you should have a different destiny. Just one who dared to consider what the world would be like with you still in it, and that one gained everything when you survived while all the others were thrown into chaos."

He stared off wistfully into the darkness, smiling in reminiscence. "I wasn't around to see it, of course, but I'm sure it was beautiful."

"I…don't understand," she admitted.

"Then I'll speak more plainly." He stepped forward, lightly brushing errant strands of hair behind her ear as he had done in the Library to whisper his secrets in her ear. "You may have killed me fair and square, but Jemima and I were never meant to kill you."

She took a violent step back. "You're lying."

He had to be. For all the times he'd chased her, cornering her in the decrepit hospital, on the ledge of Lord Burroughs' castle, and the murderous look in his eye as Jemima's body had shattered in his arms…he must be lying.

"We even helped you against the Chopper. We were right there when you found the Sacred Arrow in the crypt. You didn't think one of those would just be lying around in the Realm of Entities, did you?"

"You're lying," she repeated stubbornly, wanting to put her hands over her ears. She didn't want to listen. That night was supposed to have been put far behind her. She dreamed of it often enough. It was too much to hear about it so casually from someone implying it was just…a ruse? Some kind of elaborate deception?

"Think about it," he advised her softly. "Think about what you saw that night. What was there, what wasn't. You'll understand."

She had nearly died several times that night. Her mother had. Her grandfather had, though he was lost long before then. The last thing she wanted to do was think about it. She slapped away the hand that tried to reach for her shoulder. "Go away! Just leave me alone."

She wasn't sure he would – he'd never listened to her before – but that sharp flash of Rooder magic returned as Ralph seemed to hesitate. It wasn't as strong as before, and it diminished as he took a pointed step backwards. "As you wish. Just remember what I told you about destroying the Entity. If your patron saint still favors you**,** it shouldn't be difficult."

He vanished, teleporting away, leaving her alone in the dark. She bit her lip, focusing hard on the pain in her limbs instead of the ghostly memory of her mother's last words and her grandfather's sick intentions.

_I will not cry, I will not cry, I will not-_

"Alyssa?"

She straightened sharply, looking around. That hadn't been Ralph's voice, and though the echo of running footsteps made her tense**,** she sagged in relief as she recognized who it was. "Marcus."

He stared at her a little wide , taking in the wet ringlets of her hair, the scratches on her neck, and her awkward stance as she tried to keep weight off her sore foot. With more gentleness than she expected, he took her hand.

"Come on," he said kindly. "Let me take you back to the Portal."

She couldn't think of anything better.

* * *

Marcus had done something to the portal; added a few extra symbols around the outside drawn in chalk and two extra circles that barely fit on the small platform, but it gave off much more light than before and it seemed to trap the minimal warmth in the air. Alyssa felt much safer inside its circumference.

"It should be enough to hold off a lesser Subordinate," he said, carefully cleaning her cuts with a strip torn from his robe and a measured supply of his own supply of holy water.

"Where are you sisters?" she asked, trying not to wince. She didn't want to think of infection, or the kind of waste that might have been in the water.

"Looking for you…and the Subordinate. They found the tunnels earlier and thought they might be able to track you down. Janine can sense where Ralph is. I'm surprised they didn't find you first. I was just going to look for them myself. It's been a long time…"

Alyssa closed her eyes tiredly. "I think Janine lost her powers."

"What?" Marcus asked, shocked. "How do you-?"

He paused, looking at her uncertainly. "I suppose you just know. Janine told me that your powers are different from ours."

She didn't want to waste time correcting him. Her powers had nothing to do with it, but she wasn't sure how to explain the stranger without wasting unnecessary time. "We need to find them. The Subordinate's pretty strong, and I don't know if we can find the name here. Didn't you say you had some kind of ritual to learn it?"

He nodded. "Yes, but we'd need to go back home for the right tools."

"Can you do it while I find the others?"

"No." He glanced away, slightly shamefaced. "I need the assistance of a full-blooded Rooder to cast it." He looked back at her. "You could help me though. It isn't hard. I can teach you."

It was tempting. She badly wanted to be out of this place. The air was oppressive and the smell was starting to get to her, and Marcus's offer was an inviting excuse, but…

_I cannot guarantee she would live long enough to turn fifteen. There are those who would see the Bevelle line dwindle to nothing._

Ralph had said the Entities had wanted to eliminate her bloodline. The Bevelle's were also in danger of that. As a family who relied on numbers, Nadine was alone and in danger…and if she were gone, Tammy Yale would be next in line, facing Subordinates all on her own. Alyssa couldn't risk that.

"It's more important to find them first. They might be in trouble."

Marcus nodded agreeably, much to her relief. She didn't have the energy to fight over whose way was right like she had with Nadine. Marcus looked down at his hands, and for the first time Alyssa noticed that he had a variation of the Rooder crest painted on each palm. "I can't do much against the Subordinate, but I can do this for you. Hold still."

She watched dumbly as he put his hand on the bare parts of her arms where the armour didn't cover, pressing the symbols to her skin. Heat seemed to pervade her veins, starting from where he touched and moving slowly outward, down to her fingertips and up to her neck, crisscrossing her heart. It was like a softened adrenaline rush, and suddenly she was wide awake and much more alert. Even the invisible weight she'd carried since rebinding Ralph to Rooder service seemed to have lightened.

She blinked in amazement. "That's fantastic."

He smiled weakly at her…then fell sideways, barely catching himself from an awkward landing. Sweat shone on his face, and his breath came harshly.

"Might have overdone it," he admitted, sitting down to face her. "But do you feel better?"

"Yes. Much, thank you."

"Good." He took a steadying breath. "Then shall we go?"

He faltered as he tried to rise, and Alyssa hastily forestalled any further effort. "Maybe you should wait here. You did say you can't do much against the Subordinate, right?"

"Yes, but," he looked at her meaningfully, "you shouldn't go alone."

Janine had said that, but the intensity of his expression was reminding her why she sometimes felt uncomfortable in his presence. "I know, but we need to be quick and it might be dangerous. I can go faster by myself, and I'd feel better if I knew you were safe. Please?"

He looked away from her pleading expression, his long fingers dancing nervously along the sleeves of his robe. "Fine. But don't take too long or I'm coming after you."

She beamed at him, squeezing his shoulder gratefully. "Thank you. I'll find them, don't worry."

With the new strength Marcus had loaned her it wasn't as difficult to leave the circle as she'd feared. She looked back at Marcus to reassure herself that he would be fine; she wouldn't have to see him cut down like Ralph had been. It was difficult to tell, with the light from the circle casting its stark light on everything, but she thought Marcus might have been blushing a little as he waved his hand in farewell.

* * *

The tunnels weren't any more inviting the second time around, but at least now she knew what to expect from them. There was only a slight stiffness from her previously wrenched ankle, not enough to slow her as she jogged as swiftly as she dared over the treacherous footing. Dark puddles, slick sheets of moss**,** and unidentifiable smears threatened to make her slip, but a mixture of luck and practice allowed her to skirt around them without pause.

Pick the direction you like least and follow it. That had been Ralph's advice, and she was still following it. She was surprised he hadn't come back to taunt her already, and pretended she didn't really care where he'd gotten to.

Her course**,** unfortunately**,** did not make allowances for any obstacles in her path. Trying to follow her instincts had lead her once to a collapsed passage**,** and then to a second which had inclined downward and had been flooded by the dark water. She'd considered it uneasily, but whilst the Subordinate might have gone straight through it, Alyssa had no way of knowing how far it went. She'd had to look for another way around.

As she went further, she started to notice odd gouges on the walls. Four, sometimes five parallel slashes cut right into the stone, appearing intermittently but more frequently as she got closer. It took her a few minutes to figure them out, and once she did it didn't reassure her at all. Scratch marks, made by long fingered hands and incredibly sharp nails. Sometimes they appeared simultaneously on both sides of the tunnel, but that wouldn't have been a problem for the Subordinate's enormous arms. She'd sharpened her claws like a butcher sharpened their knives, or perhaps she'd just enjoyed the sound of it**,** like Ralph seemed to like the ring of steel.

It enticed her to go faster, but a whisper of noise behind her made her halt, frozen suddenly in motion.

_Behindyoubehindyou!_

She should have looked faster, but it was difficult to fight the childish certainty of _if I don't see it, it can't see me._ Turning inch by painful inch she checked the tunnel behind her. It was empty. Come to think of it, she was still getting that sense that the Subordinate was in front of her rather than behind. Just her imagination? But as she was about to dismiss it, the noise came again, this time as the distinct tap of something against solid wood.

She looked again, and this time saw the door. She'd walked straight past it the first time, and even now it was hard to see, the rotted wood blending against the stone. She eyed it in confusion, edging closer even though the urgency of her task begged her just to leave it.

Her heart jumped to her throat when the door suddenly rattled from the very distinct rhythm of knocking.

_Shave and a haircut…_

She didn't want to touch it. She wanted to run…but if it wasn't the Subordinate then it could have been one of the Bevelle girls, or perhaps it was Ralph trying to give her a scare. In fact, the cheerful knock was exactly his style. She scowled ferociously at the door, wedging her fingers into the crack where the handle should have been and yanking it open. "Alright, you-!"

There was no one behind the door, snuffing her temper as easily as a candle wick. She hesitated uncertainly on the threshold**,** and her first thought was to wonder how it could be light on the other side when there had been plenty of cracks in the door and nothing had shone through. Then she took note of exactly what was in front of her, and the oddity of the light became her last concern.

It was an office. Perfectly innocuous, even cozy looking, and completely and bizarrely out of place in the tunnels. She suspiciously glanced at the door, wondering if it was showing her some kind of illusion, but it remained the picture of wooden innocence. She stepped cautiously inside, and anything magical or unusual utterly failed to occur.

Alyssa had her suspicions about where the Subordinates resided. She knew, logically, that it wasn't quite the real world. Not with all the dead bodies lying around, ghosts haunting their places of death, and a complete lack of other people. It wasn't quite the realm of Entities either, which was a place that worked to crush the very soul, shaped to the bizarre whims of a race of murderers. These places where the Subordinates lurked, where their victims lingered…this was some place in-between, so it shouldn't surprise her when it sometimes didn't make sense. The office didn't belong here, but it inexplicably was. That meant it had to be important somehow.

The lights flickered as she stepped inside. Alyssa idly wondered where the electricity came from before being distracted by a manila folder on the messy desk. It was boldly marked with a red stamped '_Classified: Managers Eyes Only_'. Warily glancing around, she flipped it open. Her eyes skimmed over the writing on the page where the typewriter's thick ink had unwillingly marked the clean white paper.

_Accident Report_

_Date: 19-06-1981_

_Reported by: Eleanor Rigby, Secretary/Accounts_

_Signatory: Arthur Rigby, Managing Director_

_Summary:_

_Frank Hodges, found dead at 06:00 this morning in his work room by Eleanor. Police have been informed. Initial report suggests that death was most likely the result of accidental inhaling or ingestion of chemicals used in paints mixing. Further investigations required. Storerooms now off-limits to untrained personnel. Recommend that better ventilation be installed in work rooms to prevent further accidents._

Alyssa looked at the next few papers. Another accident report form, and then another. Eight more cases of poisoning, five more resulting in deaths, each signed off by Arthur Rigby**,** but after the third death there was a handwritten amendment to each note, scribbled furiously at the bottom in a scrawl that was almost unreadable with the emotion in the jagged strokes.

_Eleanor knows nothing. Eleanor claims alibi. Eleanor says never met victim._

Her name was mentioned as a witness in some of the reports. Attached to one was a curt letter from the police demanding an interview from Arthur Rigby and his wife in the suspected murder of several employees. Following the accident reports was a number of resignation letters. The workers had wanted to quit with the deaths of their fellows.

As she thoughtlessly shifted the file closer to the light, another scrap of paper fell to the floor. Even from a distance she could see the distinctive curves of the writing matched the annotations that had been on the rest of the reports. Curiously, she picked it up, squinting as she tried to decipher the panicked text.

_I know what she's been doing! The police suspect me, but I know it was her. She thinks I don't know about the affairs, about the money she's been embezzling from the accounts. I know. She's changed so much since I married her. I don't recognize her anymore. _

_I will end it. No more people have to die. They'll never find her body, but I won't give the police a chance to arrest me. Maybe when we're together in death, I'll finally understand her again._

She had just reached the final, desperate blot of ink at the end of the missive when she heard it. The quiet creaking of rope and wood, and the dark shadow on the wall beside her shifted gently. Both the file and the note fell to the floor, pages scattering, as she clamped both hands to her mouth to smother the scream that threatened to come out. The hanged man's gaze seemed to chide her horrified reaction, but his eyes were a milky white and unseeing.

She hastily averted her eyes from his twisted face, but as her gaze slid away she noticed that there was something clenched in his blue-knuckled fist. Even in the rigor of death he held it tightly.

It was more than curiosity. The compulsion of her Rooder blood drew her to the item. With a muted, unhappy whimper at knowing what she had to do, she reached for it, trying to tug it from his grip. It was more difficult than she expected. The hand seemed to fight her, unwilling to yield its prize. With a voiceless cry she tore it from his grasp, turning away so she wouldn't have to see the body swaying macabrely on the end of its rope. The thing in her hand had crumpled, but as she smoothed it out she understood.

It was a photo of a woman, greyed with age, but even the creases didn't detract from the fine lines of her face and her piercing gaze. Her dark hair hung in neat ringlets, and her high-necked shirt was fashionably adorned with pearls, but as different as she looked, it wasn't different enough. The face of the Subordinate seemed to be frowning snootily at her photographer.

The vision was so clear it seemed to stab her eyes with its sharpness.

_"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Arthur moaned, holding Eleanor's hand as though it would ease her transition into death. She still looked so surprised, as though she'd expected the cold, distant persona she'd adopted to keep him at arms' length. She hadn't expected him to come up behind her. She hadn't expected the crowbar._

_He hadn't expected it to be over so quickly. He could still hear the noise it had made when it impacted with her skull._

_"I'm sorry," he said again. Maybe if he apologized enough times it would make up for what he was about to do. He didn't want them to find her body. He hadn't been responsible for any of the others, but he didn't want them to know what he had done to her. He hadn't been strong enough to stop her. He hadn't loved her enough to save her._

_He had chains in the truck, spares for the ones they used at the factory to lift the vats. They weren't needed anymore. His business was destroyed by the rumors and the scandal, but they would weigh her body down when he dropped her from the bridge. The river was wide. The police wouldn't be able to search all of it._

Alyssa rubbed her eyes to clear them, blinking away the cobbled street and Eleanor's still corpse…but she hadn't been dead, or at least, not permanently. Her Entity had resurrected her, though apparently she'd chosen not to shed the chains. Maybe it was symbolic. In spite of everything, Eleanor hadn't murdered her husband even though she must have faced his suspicions countless times over the months she'd started killing. A part of her might still have loved him.

Perhaps that was why she still clung to the factory. Alyssa recognized the walkways and platforms from the pictures on the office wall. In this distorted merging of reality and memory, it was the same, although in the now it was half-submerged. Its secrets were being swallowed by the dark water just as Eleanor's body had been.

_Eleanor_, she realized faintly. _Eleanor Rigby._ Now she had the name.


	10. Chapter 10

**Author's Note:** Ladies and Gentlemen, we have reached Chapter 10, and before we go any further there is something I would like to announce!

I hate action scenes.

Well, okay, that's not actually what I'd like to announce but I thought I'd get it out there while it's fresh in my mind. This chapter was a pain since I decided not to cheat you of the gritty battle sequence this time. No, what I'd like to say is that we've now reached chapter ten and - assuming my sketchy plan of this story doesn't go to hell in a handcart - that means we are definitely past the halfway point. I'm currently estimating that this fic is going to end at chapter 17, and even if I have to extend it a little I'm pretty sure it won't go past 20. This is sort of a hurdle for me, since I'm notoriously bad at finishing my multiple chapter fics. I can safely say that it's all the wonderful support I'm getting from this fandom that's kept me active and interested in the fic. 83

So this announcement is mostly a thank-you, but also a 'so what happens next?'. XD; To be honest I was originally thinking of finishing this fic and then fleeing the fandom and never looking back, but every since I started building up momentum on this fic I find I've really been enjoying myself. Playing the game again has pretty much reinforced all the ideas I've had for this fic, as well as giving me a new host of plot bunnies, so I was kind of curious to see if people would be interested in seeing other Clock Tower stories from me. I was thinking about a prequel to this fic, set during the events of Clock Tower 3 (and delving more into plot points that will be coming out over the next few chapters) and maybe something on the early history of the Scissor Twins (which I know has been done before, but everyone's entitled to their own theory, right?). Feedback is always encouraging, but be assured that I'm going to finish this fic first before I start anything else.

**Edit:** Beta-ed by Deepsoul, whose kindness I shall never be able to repay.

* * *

**Chapter 10 - Piercing the Wraith**

Arthur Rigby's office was not haunted by his ghost. The body was harmless, except for the smell once Alyssa took the time to notice it. It could not hurt her; there was no danger. She still fled from the room as though her life depended on it, and stopped only when her lungs started to burn. She leaned heavily against one of the rocky walls and tried to banish the imaginary creak of wood and rope from her ears.

She'd seen worse in her time as a Rooder. Bodies crushed and mutilated, flesh melted by acid, decomposing skeletons with worm-like straggles of hair still clinging to the skull…but the horror of someone taking their own life out of desperation was new. She was sure that image would be showing up in her dreams along with all the rest.

The distant trill of an echo made her freeze, holding her breath for silence as the noise reverberated in the tunnels. A scream that sounded like Nadine, full of desperation and fury, had her running again though her chest felt like a worn-out bellows. The thin, bloodcurdling thread of sound must mean the Subordinate had found them.

Up ahead the tunnel divided, and she was frustratingly forced to stop for the split second it took her to decide which way to go. One tunnel was dark, the rocks slick with water that seemed to bleed from the very walls. The other had a promising light at the other end, and without wasting time to figure out which way _felt_ right, Alyssa headed towards it. She'd had enough of dark and wet, thank you very much. The light promised an end to the clinging claustrophobia.

She hadn't taken two steps, however, when she was grabbed from behind. She gasped in fright, but the hands on her shoulders were not those of the subordinate, and the voice that murmured in her ear was familiar. "Not that way."

For just a moment, she thought it was Ralph, and there was a confusing moment of cognitive dissonance when she realized neither the voice nor the hands were his. She was sure he didn't have a tattoo like that – a coiled rope of blue inked scales twining over the wrist and curling around to the palm. It was the same design she'd seen on the neck of the man who had told her how to save Ralph's life.

"I'm bending the rules for you, Alyssa, but I'll only do it once."

The hand turned upward, showing her that the tattoo ended in the head of a snake. Its maw stretched wide in a hissing sneer, but resting between the sharp lines of its fangs was a lumpy rock, probably taken from the ground. With a flick of his sharp-boned wrist the rock went flying down her chosen tunnel, skittering noisily when it finally landed-

Sharp spikes, longer than her arm, streaked with rust and septically sharp shot from the walls, floor and ceiling with a noise akin to nails on chalkboard. She stared aghast, her imagination giving an all too detailed account of the painful, bleeding death promised by stepping into that particular trap.

The man patted her condescendingly on the head. "Be more careful."

She dragged her eyes away from the spikes that were slowly receding back into their slumber. "Just who are-?"

The tunnel was empty behind her. She turned wildly back and forth but the man was gone completely, vanishing with less warning than Ralph's teleporting granted him. Ghost-like, even. Her skin crawled but**,** bizarre as it was, another scream drove the occurrence from her mind. Cursing in an unladylike fashion, Alyssa raced back to the other tunnel, hoping this one didn't have any nasty surprises waiting for her.

* * *

By the time she found them, Alyssa had numbed to the repeated shocks and confusion of the night, and all that was left was a steady sense of purpose. It wasn't quite the same purifying clarity that came from knowing the end was near, not like it had been with Edgar, and deep in her bones she knew it was because this battle would not be so easily decided.

The tunnel widened into a cavern, and Alyssa nearly tumbled down a fifteen foot drop before realizing there was no path down to where Nadine was fending off the Subordinate. It took her only a moment to gauge the situation. Janine was lying on the ground, unmoving, her face hidden by the limp curls of her hair. Nadine was using a steel pipe that looked like one of the railings from back in the factory to defend herself and her sister, holding it much like she'd held her spear. It was almost enough to counter the Subordinate's inhuman reach, but the pipe was heavier and more unwieldy than Nadine's soul weapon. Her shoulders were starting to bow with the strain, and Alyssa could see scours of red on the girl's arms where either the chains or the Subordinate's nails had managed to land.

There was no easy way down, and no time to waste. Alyssa braced herself**,** and lowered herself over the edge, clinging with the tips of her fingers until the last second before letting herself drop, using her thick gauntlets to scrape the crumbling rock and minutely slow her fall. Her unprotected fingers were scraped by the jagged rock, and her previously wrenched ankle nearly gave out beneath her when she hit the ground**.** **I**ts agony redoubled, but she staggered upright, biting down on a cry of pain.

Across the room, Nadine's eyes met hers, revealing a plea for help so naked that Alyssa's mouth opened before she'd even had a chance to collect herself properly. "Eleanor Rigby."

The Subordinate staggered as though she'd been physically struck, her torso twisting in a way that should have been physically impossible to look behind her. Her hideous face grimaced at the sight of Alyssa. "You!"

The runes were alighting beneath her feet, bringing a holy light to the cavern that only made Eleanor look more monstrous in its glow. Nadine dropped her pipe in relief, but it would take a moment for her weapon to appear. Alyssa had to make sure the Subordinate's focus stayed on her.

"I know what you did, Eleanor," she accused softly. "I know what happened to your husband."

Eleanor hacked, a noise somewhere between a derisive snort and a choked laugh. "And I know all about you, girl. Every one of us knows your name…and I can smell the traitor on you still."

Her spindly fingers crawled along the ground like pale spiders, helping her deformed body to move – away from the Bevelle sisters, much to Alyssa's relief. Eleanor's lips were pulled wide in a hateful leer. "Aren't you ashamed to work for an enemy? Why not kill him instead**?** You'll do us all a favor."

"I don't know what you're talking about," she said, feeling the comforting weight of her bow solidifying. It seemed to ease the pain in her cut fingers rather than aggravate it.

"Of course you don't," Eleanor sneered. "You're just the tool he uses to cut us down."

_Tool_, the small part of Alyssa's mind that wasn't focused on the battle repeated curiously. _Like garden tools. Shears. Use the same shears._

"And you," Eleanor's head lolled unnaturally on her neck. Nadine, who'd crept forward with her spear ready to thrust into the Subordinate's unprotected back, froze as one of Eleanor's yellow eyes focused on her. "The Quartermaster will come for you. His shades will devour you, and then the rest of your bloodline. We sense the end of your house is near."

A fearsome expression crossed Nadine's face. Malicious anger and terror entwined. "Go to hell!"

"Nadine, wait!"

If the younger girl heard the warning at all she didn't heed it, lunging forward recklessly with intent to pierce the Subordinate through the heart. Eleanor seemed to slither out of the way like an eel, unexpectedly swift and flexible**,** even on land**,** though her form seemed to be made for water. For a moment it looked like Nadine had made a fatal error, stepping inside Eleanor's reach where her own spear would be limited by the closeness, but Alyssa had underestimated the girl's ferocity. Nadine was much faster with the spear than she had been with the pipe, and even Eleanor didn't have the skill to block when Nadine shifted her grip and used the blunted end of her weapon the strike the Subordinate's unprotected side. The blow crackled with magical fire, and Nadine's eyes seemed to blaze with it. Eleanor was forced to retreat, shrieking unintelligibly as Nadine ruthlessly pursued her.

Alyssa raised her bow, a golden arrow poised between her fingers, but the two were moving too fast and too close together for her to be sure of her shot. She hesitated, unsure if she should close the distance or wait for a better opportunity, and in that moment Nadine rested a moment too long between strikes and Eleanor finally had a chance to scurry out of reach.

"His favor will not save you!" she wailed. "This place is mine! He cannot take it from me!"

Her voice reached the pitch that would have made glass shatter, and the cavern trembled with it. The floor fractured under Alyssa's feet, making her arrow fly wildly from its intended target, and water bubbled from the cracks. It washed over the floor, taking only moments to rise over her ankles, and just as alarming was the hail of rocks from above. A slab of stone the size of her head landed far too close, spraying her with dark droplets. Alyssa moved hastily back to the wall, trying to keep an eye above and below at the same time before a bobbing movement from the corner of her vision reminded her that it wasn't only Nadine who needed her help.

"Janine!" The elder Bevelle was still face down on the floor, and the water was rising swiftly. Alyssa spared only a glance to ensure that Nadine was still fighting before running over to Janine. It got more difficult with each step as the water continued to rise, and it had almost overtaken Janine completely before Alyssa finally reached her and pulled her head back above water.

Janine coughed, her eyes opening weakly as Alyssa supported her. Alyssa patted her cheek worriedly when her lashes fluttered closed. "Janine, are you alright? Can you stand?"

The self evident answers were no and no, but Alyssa wasn't ready to give up. Janine had to get to higher ground. That meant getting back to the tunnel Alyssa had entered from, which also meant a fifteen foot climb that would be much harder going up than it had been for Alyssa to fall down.

"Come on," she said, pulling Janine to her feet. She looked so much worse than she had at the party, wane and frail, but Alyssa had seen her wielding a sword in the rain against a cold-blooded murderer. Janine was strong, and the trait began to reawaken as Alyssa dragged her back to the wall.

"Alyssa?" Janine questioned wearily, her voice laden with an exhaustion that wasn't entirely natural. "What's going on?"

She might not even realize that her powers were gone yet, Alyssa reflected distantly, but there wasn't time to explain it. "You need to get to safety. Can you climb this?"

Janine looked at the wall with a dread that approached refusal, but Alyssa could see her resolutely swallow her initial reaction and cover it with determination. She tentatively found her first handholds. "Where's Nadine?"

"I'll get her in a minute," Alyssa said, hoping it was true. In the darkness, she could only just make out the shadow of Nadine and the Subordinate across the room. The surging water and rumbling stone covered any sound of their battle; she couldn't tell who was winning. "But you need to get up there, quickly! Here, I'll help you."

She was painfully reminded of the cuts and scrapes she'd taken when dropping down this same wall, but adrenaline was coursing through her veins like false courage and liquid strength. She managed to boost Janine high above the rising pool at the bottom of the cavern, holding her for the long and painful minute it took for Janine to find a solid handhold. It was a relief when she could finally let go, and Janine was already near the top. Now she was free to take care of the Subordinate, but by then the water had reached mid-thigh**,** and when she turned she couldn't see either Eleanor nor Nadine.

Eleanor was far more at home in the water. She'd turned this ground to her advantage, and the only likely explanation was that she'd already dragged Nadine under. Alyssa stumbled to where she'd seen her last, fighting the water that was creeping over her hips and the swirling undercurrent that tore at her boots. The water was still dark and murky, nearly opaque. Nadine could be anywhere. _Eleanor_ could be anywhere.

From above there was a thunderous crack that made her pause. She looked upward, forgetting for a moment what might be lurking in the water in the face of a greater threat. She could see only a shadow of what was falling, but it was huge. A large fraction of the ceiling must have given way, and it was falling right into the centre of the pool. The water was a hindrance – she could barely get out of its way fast enough, but there was no way she could escape it completely. It landed with a huge splash, the impact cracking the ground even further, and in a moment Alyssa was overtaken by the tidal wave of its descent.

She lost every sense of direction, tumbling head over heels by a force she couldn't fight. She hit something hard enough to bruise – the floor or the wall, she couldn't tell – but it was secondary to the realization that she hadn't been able to hold her breath and couldn't tell which way was up. She flailed helplessly, inhaling water by accident. Only by chance did one of her legs kick up into air, and from there she managed to right herself, spluttering and disorientated.

The water had risen to her chest. She was having trouble touching the ground and she knew she had to get out of the water before Eleanor found her. The enormous fallen rock was now the only shelf of dry land she could see, and she paddled over to it awkwardly, expecting to be dragged under at any moment. She was more surprised than not when she actually made it, and a distant part of her hoped that maybe Eleanor had been crushed by the rock's fall. Only when she'd managed to drag herself to safety did it occur to her that Nadine might have shared that fate.

"Nadine!" she called frantically, looking into the churning water with little hope. It was as violent as a sea storm, and heavy stones were still falling from above as the cavern continued to crumble. Nadine could have already been crushed, drowned, or torn apart by the Subordinate. Her eyes stung, but tears of desperation were indistinguishable from the water already coursing down her cheeks.

A dark chuckle made her turn too quickly, nearly tripping on the slick stone. Eleanor's bulging eyes nearly overshadowed the rest of her features, but the smirk on her face was gleeful as she dragged herself onto the rock.

"Nowhere to run, girl," she hissed, black rivulets dripping from her mouth that was either water or blood. "Nowhere to go but into the depths with me. No escape."

She'd wanted better circumstances before trying this move. She'd wanted to be certain, because Ralph had hinted that it might not work unless the circumstances were right, but at that moment all Alyssa could think of was the red stains under Eleanor's nails and of Nadine's lifeless body floating somewhere beneath her. She raised her bow, drawing the arrow with cold fury and whispering the words Ralph had told her to use. Eleanor looked unimpressed.

"Your arrow might sting," she said, "but it won't stop me. You'll take my name to your grave, and _he_ will think twice before he sends your kind here again." She cocked her head, listening. "Praying to your saint? She can't save you."

"-pierce the hearts of evil by the souls of the righteous," Alyssa continued heedlessly, faintly aware that the sound that reached her ears didn't quite match up with the words she had been told to say. She understood it completely, but she didn't think she was speaking English anymore. Maybe Latin, or perhaps something even older. "Seal them into their cage of flesh, and by the will of the innocent let their evil be purged."

The arrow changed shape in her hand, making it as difficult to hold as a squirming child. Still gold in color, but the arrowhead changed from a three pointed pyramid to one with six edges – the same number as the traditional Rooder symbol – and while her arrows were usually as intangible as mist- this one felt solid. The cuts in her fingers burned to hold it, and the arrow seemed to quiver with a vibration she could feel down to her toes. She could barely manage to aim it.

Eleanor had paused, but not for long. Either she didn't know what purpose the arrow was meant to serve**,** or she thought she could strike before Alyssa had managed to steady her weapon. She was right in that regard. Alyssa saw the claws reaching for her and, relying on little more than luck, released the arrow with less than four feet between them. There was a sickening, fleshy sound as it hit, and Eleanor stumbled back from the impact with a wounded shriek.

When Alyssa dared to look, Eleanor was staring at the arrow in her chest with confusion. It was buried solidly between her breasts, piercing the sternum, and though it would have been a mortal wound under any other circumstances it only seemed to cause her an unpleasant discomfort. She tried to pull it out, but the moment she touched the arrow it crackled with electricity, and through the shredded remains of Eleanor's dress Alyssa could see the mottled skin blazed red in the shape of the Rooder seal.

"I'm not the only one who won't escape," she said, and Eleanor looked sharply at her. "The Entity's been sealed inside your body. When you die, it'll die with you."

Eleanor swayed silently, her eyes wide and glazed, looking about as surprised as a Subordinate could, but the pause lasted only a moment before she grappled wildly for the arrow. "No, no, NO!"

It burned her hands with every touch. Alyssa could smell the charring of flesh, and the horrific screams made her want to cover her ears, but the arrow would not be pulled out. Alyssa's magic held it fast, and after a moment Eleanor seemed to realize this as well. Her claws twitched spasmodically as she glared at Alyssa.

"_If_ I die…but if I kill you first I have nothing to fear."

Alyssa raised her bow which seemed to have gained twenty pounds in weight in the last few seconds. She fumbled for the string, feeling the arrow flicker weakly to life, but her body was so slow it was like trying to move underwater. Eleanor was faster. Nadine was faster still, and the Subordinate staggered in surprise at the head of Nadine's spear suddenly burst from her stomach. Despite the change time had wrought on her features, her expression was a near-perfect match to the death mask that had ensued when Arthur had caused her first death. Shock, pain, _relief?_ And then, she fell.

Nadine looked half-drowned, half-frozen and only half-sane as she stepped over the Subordinate's fallen body. She pulled her spear loose**,** but only so she could stab it down again and again, inflicting a dozen grievous wounds before Alyssa managed to reach her.

"Nadine? _Nadine_?"

The girl was shaking violently. Alyssa didn't think it was entirely due to the cold. The smears of the party makeup that Nadine hadn't removed at the start of the night had become long dark lines down her cheeks, tracing invisible tear tracks. Alyssa gripped her arms to still them, and finally grappled her into a protective embrace when Nadine refused to cease the motions of trying to stab.

"Shh," she soothed, trying to channel her mother's comforting touch with questionable success.

"I'll kill her," Nadine muttered, but the words were a dull monotone that had lost their venom with each repeat.

"She's dead," Alyssa told her, looking down at Eleanor's bloody corpse, the arrow still lodged merrily in her chest. "She's very dead."

As if on cue, Eleanor's skin turned grey and then began to crumble. The arrow sparked brighter than ever, with small, smoky tendrils trying to break from the sigil on her chest, but the Entity was kept trapped and confined. Alyssa swore she could hear its inhuman death wail when Eleanor's torso was consumed by the dust. In moments the water that had started washing over the rock had swept away any trace of her, leaving only a tarnished arrow that quickly sank. Alyssa let it go.

"Come on," she urged Nadine quietly. "Your sister's waiting for us. It's time to go home."

"Home?" Nadine repeated in a small voice.

"That's right." Alyssa tried to smile brightly, but it was difficult when she was fully aware of the rising water level and the heavy splashes of rock falling nearby. The cavern was still crumbling, maybe even faster now that Eleanor was dead. Thankfully Nadine nodded, and Alyssa had little trouble coaxing her back to the ledge where Janine was waiting to help haul them out of the water's chilly embrace for the last time.

* * *

When they finally stumbled down the attic stairs, light was streaming through the windows**,** and Bonnie and the rest of the Children's Ward were waiting for them. George's serious face was full of awe, and Tammy's bright expression had dimmed to one of concern. Bonnie looked entirely unsurprised to see them; Alyssa and Nadine soaked and bleeding, Marcus pale and wane, and Janine needing her brother's support to stay upright.

"Oh dear," she said in a resigned tone, like one who'd found a mess left by a puppy on a rug. "Tammy, go and get the Baroness. George, go run the bath. Marcus, give Janine to me. Let's get you lot cleaned up."

It was an order Alyssa was all too happy to comply with.


	11. Chapter 11

**Author's Note:** I'm vastly amused that the biggest reaction for the last chapter was, "What, no Ralph?" XD I half-wondered if that might be overlooked in the midst of everything else, but I guess not. Never fear, for he returns this chapter with a vengeance.

* * *

**Chapter 11 - Ask no Questions...**

Alyssa had spent a persistent hour in bed tossing and turning before giving in to the knowledge that she wasn't going to get any sleep. Every thought she had – Eleanor, the Bevelles, Ralph, the Entities, the Rooders – was just another reminder of how much she didn't know. It was like banging her head against a brick wall, and eventually she gave up and got dressed. Following Bonnie's knowingly detailed instructions, she went to see Janine.

It was still early enough for most of the household to be abed, with the exception of the Children's Ward who had somehow known what was happening. Perhaps Tammy was starting to become sensitive to the activity of the Subordinates, or Bonnie possessed some supernatural sense for the welfare of her charges. Alyssa was still unspeakably grateful to the woman who had taken command of the shell-shocked hunting party with the skill of long experience. Alyssa idly wondered how long Bonnie had been taking care of the family's Rooders.

The Baroness would also be awake, though hopefully not nearby. The woman's demeanour had achieved a new degree of iciness when the news of Janine's state had reached her. Alyssa had been subjected to an unexpected audience with the Head of the House, still wet and bedraggled with armour that was sticking uncomfortably while the Baroness looked positively resplendent in a blue gown that she might very well have worn at the party last night. It only occurred to Alyssa later that it most likely signified that the Baroness hadn't yet slept, and what that might imply, but at the time she'd only been aware of her own discomfort as she'd tried to explain what had happened. She'd glossed entirely over what had happened to Ralph, and was annoyed but not particularly surprised when it wasn't questioned at all.

Needless to say, she was hoping not to see the Baroness again this morning. As the sole representative of her own house, Alyssa didn't think she'd managed to acquit herself well in front of the formidably lady with her stammering retelling and dishevelled appearance. She'd probably smelled like the dank, murky sewer too. When she'd finally gotten her shower, the water had run off not black but green. The remembrance made her pull a face of disgust.

Janine was supposed to be resting, but Alyssa wanted someone to talk to. Someone who wasn't Ralph; not that it mattered because he hadn't shown his face around her to either mock or applaud her efforts against the Subordinate. She was doing her best to give him exactly the same consideration, none at all, but it was difficult when the strange weight she still carried was a constant reminder of his absence.

She finally found the bedroom wing and made pains to be extra quiet for those who still slept. To her shock, the moment Janine was well enough to be moved she was assigned a new room outside the Children's Ward and with an alacrity that left Alyssa reeling all the older girl's possessions were swiftly relocated shortly after they'd returned. Alyssa frankly thought it unfair. Janine wasn't well, still weakened by the loss of her powers, and not only had she been stripped of her status as the family's primary Rooder but also the sanctity of her bedroom. Alyssa knew for a fact that the younger members of the Children's Ward had done most of the moving, and though they meant well Janine's new room was in complete disarray – not at all the proper surroundings for someone still recovering.

Alyssa found the room with the door ajar. Hesitating for a moment with her hand on the knob, she listened carefully but there didn't seem to be another visitor. She pushed the door aside to peer in. "Janine?"

Janine was propped up on a mountain of comfortable looking pillows, but the white, impersonal bed linen only drew attention to the deathly pallor of her skin. Her dark hair hung limp, the curls lifeless though someone had taken the time to brush out the matted tangles she'd acquired in the factory , and she barely looked up at the sound of her name.

"Hello Alyssa." Her voice was hoarse, barely more than a whisper.

There was a chair placed conveniently at her bedside, though it was conspicuously empty. Glad as Alyssa was to have found Janine alone, she couldn't think well of the rest of the family for leaving her that way. They all seemed to be treating Janine like she was some sort of plague carrier, removing her so hastily from the Children's Ward as though afraid the infection would spread.

"How are you doing?" Alyssa asked, taking the chair and putting a comforting hand over Janine's own frail one. Two days ago, Janine had wielded a sword with ease. Now it looked like she could barely lift the weight of a cup to her lips. Her deterioration had been so fast it was frightening, Alyssa supposed, but that was no reason to give into that fear.

Janine made a pained sound. "Not so well. I remember…Hannah Yale went through this, not so long ago. Didn't think it would feel this way."

Her eyelids fluttered. Alyssa held her hand tighter as though she could anchor Janine to wakefulness. "Is it always this bad?"

"No." Janine's breathing was heavy. "I must not be as strong as I thought I was. The summoning ritual might have made it worse."

Alyssa had a dozen questions about the ritual that she'd been storing in the back of her mind for when Janine was well enough to answer them. She wondered if she might be able to slip in one or two now, but Janine wasn't finished talking.

"Nadine wanted to be the anchor, but I told her…I wanted her to be at full strength. She'll need it to hold off the Shades when he comes." She looked down at her other hand, carefully feeling the calluses of hard work on her fingers. "The ritual steals time, you see. My time as a Rooder…but I thought I had much longer…."

Alyssa's blood chilled a little. She hadn't known that. What exactly was it costing her to keep Ralph here? Could her own powers be running dry like Janine's had? She was younger than Janine, but she wasn't comfortable with the idea that she'd inadvertently shortened the duration that her powers would stay with her.

"The ritual," Alyssa said urgently. "What else does it do? What does the contract mean?"

Janine didn't seem to hear her, turning to look out the window at the grey morning light. "I'm sorry Alyssa. I'm really tired."

"Of course," she said guiltily, even though the floodgate on her questions threatened to burst and holding them inside felt almost like a physical pain. "I'll let you get some rest."

There was at least one other who might be able to give her the answers, though she wasn't happy at the thought of invoking his name.

* * *

She waited until she was back in her own room, the door a comfortingly solid barrier behind her before she tried it.

"Ralph," she said to the empty air. "I know you're still here."

It was only a feeling, but Alyssa was sure it wasn't just her imagination. It was an itch between her shoulder blades, and an unerring certainty that Ralph would linger where he was likely to have the most entertainment. Surely her helplessness and frustration were keeping him well amused, but her words didn't elicit any kind of response. She looked around, making sure he wasn't just hiding behind the furniture, ridiculous as the notion was, and stubbornly stamped her foot. "I know you are. Come out here!"

The shimmering noise of his teleporting had once filled her with dread. Now it was a sound of relief, though predictably he chose to appear behind her rather than in front, ever hopeful to catch her off guard. He bowed sardonically. "Of course. You have only to ask."

She glared at him, feeling an almost vindictive pleasure to finally have someone to unleash her flood of questions on. He must know something about the ritual. If she was right about the meaning of the symbols, at least part of the contract had been written onto his skin with the knife. Conversation with Ralph was like walking over a minefield, but he usually gave her at least half the answers she needed…but despite her careful plan to approach him with the right questions, the first words out of her mouth were, "Where have you been?"

Her bitterness surprised her. Even Ralph seemed a little taken-aback though it was swiftly covered with his usual unsettling grin. "You told me to leave. I must obey, mistress."

"Don't call me that," she said immediately before the rest of his words caught up with her. She tried to remember how they conversation had ended in the tunnels, but the memory was a blur of anger and hurt. "What I said, I didn't mean-"

"The meaning doesn't matter," he told her airily. "I'm bound to your service, which means that any order of yours I have to follow without condition. Otherwise I just get sent straight back, and that would have undone all the good work you did to save me."

His ingraining smile didn't make her feel any better, and she sat down abruptly on the bed, thinking over the implications of that. Any order she gave him, not matter how frivolous, from telling him to stop humming to-

She narrowed her eyes. "You still called me 'Mistress'." She was certain she'd already told him once before not to.

"There is some room for interpretation," he admitted cheerfully. "You might not like the title now, but in ten minutes you might feel different."

"I won't," she told him flatly.

"Eleven minutes then." He squatted comfortably to her level, chin propped on his knuckles in a curious manner. "Such little details shouldn't concern you, Alyssa. You managed perfectly fine without me."

His expression turned sly. "Although it was very close. If one had been gambling on the outcome of that battle, the odds would not have been in your favour, wouldn't you say? Especially with myself conspicuously absent. That would have been quite difficult to predict since I am so obviously smitten with you and concerned with your survival."

The latter comment only earned him her blatant scepticism, but the former made her frown. "So you mean the Entities are still-?"

"Gambling with mortal lives? Oh yes. It never stops, Alyssa. You'll always be a part of their intrigue whether you consent or not. The best you can do is succeed whenever they expect you to fail."

"So I just live when they want me to die?" she asked doubtfully. "Is that it?"

"Mostly," Ralph agreed. "By just being yourself, you're thwarting the Entities. Isn't that nice?"

She looked at him suspiciously. "Why are you so happy about it? You used to work for them, but you told me how to kill them. Why?"

As far as she'd ever seen, he didn't hold any particular guilt over it. It wasn't likely he was aiding her out of any sense of remorse for his crimes, and even so he wouldn't be doing it so joyfully. She was half-worried that he just took pleasure in the killing.

"The only Entity I cared for was my own," he told her. "And since every Entity is out for itself, the others were my enemies too. It's their own fault if they're stupid enough to underestimate you now, after all you've accomplished."

She supposed that made a twisted kind of sense. That shouldn't come as a surprise, but if there was one thing that she'd learned about him it was that when he gave any answer it was only a fraction of the truth, at best. "That's not the only reason, is it?"

He smirked at her, pleased at something though she wasn't sure what. "No."

Alyssa pursed her lips uncertainly. She hadn't intended to bring this up yet, not until she was more sure of her guess, but it seemed her list of grievances with Ralph were more insistent than her questions on the ritual.

"What that man said about shears and the garden…that's got something to do with me, doesn't it?" The longer she'd thought about it, the more sense it had started to make. The things he'd hinted about her birthday, and the way he'd reacted to that cryptic phrase…or was it an instruction? "You're using me to get rid of the Entities."

"'Use' is such an uncharitable word," Ralph said, rocking back on his heels. "Destroying Entities is what every Rooder aspires to. You're not doing anything that compromises your duty."

"Aren't I?"

The Bevelle's had treated Ralph as though he were a thing rather than a person; a tool to be called on at whim and forgotten about when not in sight, but Alyssa knew better. The Rooder texts seemed to portray the war of the Rooders in simple terms of black and white, Alyssa knew they were complicated than that. Robert Morris had been an ordinary factory worker before he'd been possessed and taught a perverse enjoyment for the pain of others. Harold Powell had been a tortured young man before becoming a murderer who took vengeance on the young women who had mocked him. She didn't know what Ralph had been, but she wasn't going to make the mistake of thinking he didn't have an agenda of his own. He could be cordial, and seemed to enjoy flaunting whatever bond he thought they had, but even though he said he wasn't a part of the game Alyssa was embroiled in, she couldn't trust that. In the service of the Bevelle's, he hadn't had their best interests at heart, and she doubted he had hers either. The fact that he spent a long moment considering her question only seemed to confirm her suspicion.

He withheld answers because he enjoyed it, and because if she knew what he was really trying to do she might not do it. He'd abandoned her and Nadine to the Subordinate because it had furthered his cause, even if he'd wanted her to win. He'd sided with her against the Bevelle's, let her confide in him and done likewise, but how could she believe any of it when every word that came out of his mouth was skewed by his own warped vision of the world. He was already dead. What did he care for her, for the entities, for anything? Betrayal was a sick twist in her stomach, and she reproached herself for feeling it nearly as much as she resented him.

"Who was that man we saw? You know who he is even if you don't know his name."

Ralph's expression didn't actually change, but now it was a mask obscuring adamant refusal instead of placid agreement. "I couldn't say."

She was sick of half-answers. "I could order you to tell me," she threatened. She didn't like the idea; the image of a master painfully cracking the whip over a slave wasn't a pleasant one, but she was frustrated enough to try it.

"I wouldn't try it," he told her, finally dropping the pretence to show a shadow of the dangerous creature he was under the jester's smile. The same one who'd threatened her in the corridor on her first day who made her heart race and her fingers twitch for the feel of her bow, but this time she knew he couldn't hurt her.

"Why not?" she challenged.

He straightened, and she did likewise, but it seemed his intention wasn't to loom threateningly. His expression shifted like quicksilver to more tempered one, reigning in the beast once more. "Because the Bevelles asked me all about you."

She blinked. "What?"

"The eldest girl was even there when they did it," Ralph continued ruthlessly with his wicked-edge grin. "The Baroness herself did the questioning while the Rooder girl compelled me to answer. Tell us about Alyssa, they said. Tell us about her family, tell us about her grandfather. Tell us about her powers, her friends, her weaknesses. Tell us everything!"

It felt like a slap. The Baroness, Janine…it hadn't even occurred to her that they might ask Ralph for those things. The sordid details of her birthday that she'd rather have forgotten.

Ralph made sure she'd had a moment to consider that before continuing, "But I gave them only things they couldn't use. I can be forced to speak, but not to give the truth. Told them how your Grandfather's favourite desert was peaches in cream. I told them how you only got a B on your last math exam. I didn't even bring up any of the interesting things your friend Dennis let slip while Jemima and I had him in our dungeon. Nothing I gave will help them in their plans for you."

From the look on his face, she could guess that disobedience had cost him. She remembered the flash of magic and pain when her own tongue had slipped. "But why-?"

"Because you're too important to become a tool for a family of useless Rooders," he told her bluntly. "You have a different destiny."

"Destiny," she repeated dully.

"Destiny is the curse of the great," he said cryptically. "Take it up with your Patron, not with me. I'm just hear to help you along the way."

She crossed her arms. "I don't believe in destiny."

"Good," he said proudly, taking her by surprise. "Fate gets a bit dull and repetitive anyway. That would be boring."

His eyes flicked over to her door, his posture tensing. "They're coming for you. I really shouldn't stay."

"Wait!" she said before he could disappear, wincing slightly when she realised the word could be constituted as an order that he was already in the process of disobeying. He froze, but the damage was done, and the light burned her eyes as the painful marks reappeared on his forehead, and a second later the door opened.

"Alyssa, are you-?" Marcus froze himself, staring at Ralph with undisguised alarm. "What's he doing here?"

Alyssa felt inexplicably flustered. "We were just talking-"

"Entering a lady's room without knocking?" Ralph observed over her, clicking his tongue chidingly at Marcus. "How very impolite."

Under the playful words there was an undercurrent of something more malicious that made Alyssa stare at him in bewilderment. Marcus wasn't oblivious to it either, edging haltingly into the room as though it contained a ravenous wolf. "Alyssa, get away from him! Janine's spell will have eroded, he's not safe-!"

"Oh relax," Ralph drolled, stepping to Alyssa's side and pointing to the marks on his forehead. "My contract is still enforced, only the ownership has changed."

Marcus stared. The symbols obviously meant more to him than they did to Alyssa but he still seemed stunned. "But how-?"

"I told Alyssa how to do it," Ralph announced beguilingly, turning a bright, beaming smile on Alyssa. "I didn't really feel like going back to the Hall of Judgement just yet. It's not a very fun place to be."

"What's going on?" If it were possible, Alyssa's heart sunk further. Nadine peered around the door frame, her aggravated scowl blooming into shock just as Marcus's had. "W-what?"

"It's okay, he can't hurt anyone." Alyssa held her arms out beseechingly. She didn't want to cause a panic over nothing. She honestly hadn't thought about how she was going to explain Ralph's continued presence, though it seemed he'd already supplied her with an excuse, albeit an untrue one. When she spared him an uncertain glance, his eyes held hers steadily and his head inclined slightly in a nod of assurance.

"He…told me how to use my powers to sustain him. I thought we could still use his help, since Janine is…" She trailed off uncertainly.

Nadine recovered quicker than her brother, her face darkening with outrage. "You can't do that! That technique belongs to us. It takes years to master it, and you need a Warlock to cast the symbols properly."

Alyssa and Ralph exchanged a look before Ralph gifted the Bevelles with a nasty grin. "Well if you had a real Rooder doing the casting, you might not find it so difficult."

"Ralph!" Alyssa objected, horrified. Nadine spluttered in wordless anger and even Marcus's dignity didn't quite cover the wound left by the barb. Alyssa glared viciously at the former Subordinate. He seemed to be enjoying the opportunity to say what he liked to his former masters, but it was only making the problem more difficult. "Just go. I'll explain to them."

He saluted mockingly. "As you wish…Mistress."

Ralph was gone before she could snap at him. Looking at Nadine's livid sneer and Marcus's uneasy mistrust, she sighed and resignedly wondered how different her morning would have been if she'd managed to get back to sleep.


	12. Chapter 12

**Author's Note:** I am deeply shamed that it has taken me so long to get anywhere with this chapter. I would love to give you my earnest, well structured excuse, but unfortunately it's only the one that most of us authors claim from time to time. D: Writers block. Srsly.

I did start this chapter on schedual, decided that it was wrong somehow and that I didn't like it, and then spend two weeks angsting about it before giving up and rewriting the whole thing. Yes, sometimes I really am that dumb. Now this segment is shorter than most, but there's a reason for that. This scene was actually supposed to be a part ofthe last chapter but I decided I liked the tension of leaving it in the middle of the fight scene, and also I'm planning to give you all a longer, more complete chapter very soon (this weekend, I hope!) but also wanted to give something to tide you all over. I hope my wonderful beta, Deepsoul, isn't too annoyed at me for the wait. She hasn't touched this chapter yet, so all mistakes are still mine.

**Special Mention to kittyheartdance:** For the record, I've been deeply entertained reading the questions and thoughts you've been raising in your reviews. Some of them I thought about myself, and set about answering them in this fic (particularly the relationship between Entities and their Subordinates). As for your guesses on a certain person's identity, I'd love to know what you've come up with. I've tried to strike a balance between giving clues and still being cryptic enough that it'll only be really obvious on a reread. If you're worried about leaving potential spoilers in my reviews, perhaps you could private message or email me? X3 Only if you want to.

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**Chapter 12 - Gift Horses**

For the first time in four years, Alyssa had been told to '_go to her room'_ and not come out until she could behave like a civilised being. To be told by Bonnie, no less, who proved her mettle by standing eye to eye with both Nadine and Alyssa and ordering them to separate without any sign of apology. Later on, when she was finished fuming, Alyssa would probably find it amusing. For the moment she found it aggravating, insulting, and faintly embarrassing to have had such a public fight. Nadine's behaviour had been bad enough, but her own wasn't much better.

She finished trying to smother herself with the pillow and threw it across the room with a snarl of aggravation, and sarcastically commented to the empty space, "Well _thank-you_ for making a complete mess of things."

"But it was much more fun this way," Ralph informed her unapologetically, taking her remark as an invitation to return. She didn't doubt he'd been lurking nearby all along, feeding on the rancorous emotion of the argument. She didn't doubt that he'd enjoyed that as much as he had the opportunity to degrade the Bevelles either.

They were probably going to send her home, Alyssa reflected dully. She'd really made a mess of things. Even Marcus hadn't been willing to take a side between them, standing helplessly to one side. And the shocked eyes of the other members of the Children's Ward was ingrained accusingly in her memory. As soon as the rest of the family heard she'd be slinking home in disgrace.

"If it makes you feel any better," Ralph said with a trace of wickedness in his voice, "the little girl is getting the most delightful verbal whipping from her mother."

Alyssa sat up slightly to look at him. "How do you know?"

"I have my ways." He wriggled his fingers at her, arching an eyebrow suggestively which prompted her to sink back down with a huff of disgust. Ralph laughed. "Just give it a bit more time. Soon she'll be back here crawling for your forgiveness. Won't that make you feel good?"

She pointedly didn't think about answering that question. "What makes you think she'll apologise?"

"They need you too much, Alyssa. The little girl's all alone now. Even if her mother didn't make her she'd be a fool to spurn your aid when the Subordinates know the family is weak." A pause. "You are still going to help her, aren't you?"

Alyssa let go of a pent up sigh. "Of course." Even without knowing that Nadine was working up to an apology, Alyssa had already started wording one of her own. She wasn't proud of letting Nadine's words affect her so badly, however much she was still convinced that she hadn't done anything wrong, and she had enough evidence to suspect that the Bevelle family and Nadine specifically were in grave danger.

"Good." Did Ralph sound particularly satisfied?

She sat up properly this time, narrowing her eyes at his splayed posture of exaggerated innocence. She didn't buy it for a moment, and he likely didn't expect her to. "I would have thought you didn't care." Or that he'd rather see them dead, but she didn't say as much.

"The girl and her family don't really interest me," he said. "But it's important that they survive…for at least a few more years, anyway."

"Why?"

He eyed her with an intensity that made her suddenly uncomfortable. Whatever illness he'd been suffering whilst Janine's powers had waned was completely gone now. In fact, he looked somehow better than he had when she'd first arrived at the house; lean instead of thin, with his skin showing a hint of colour instead of being dead white. She wondered if maybe her powers sated him more than Janine's had before shoving the notion away. It didn't matter, so long as he was healthy enough to be useful.

"I brought you a gift," he announced suddenly, and though she knew better than to be distracted by the bright shift in his tone, the box he brought to her attention succeeded. It was wide and flat, a silvery grey in colour but otherwise unadorned as it sat innocuously on the dresser. She couldn't say for certain if it had been there all along or if it had simply appeared in the moment he'd pointed to it.

She approached it with equal parts curiosity and caution. "What is it?"

He smirked. "Why don't you open it?"

She did, tentatively lifting one corner of the lid as though expected a bomb, or possibly a giant spider ready to jump out at her. Instead she discovered a dress, and found herself staring in blank shock at the sheen of satin and the subtle sparkle of gemstones threaded to the bodice. Ralph gave her moment before reaching into the folds of fabric and pulling out a mask.

"Can't have you going to the party without a proper dress," he prompted her gently, holding up the mask in front of his own eyes. It was the kind that left the lower half of the face revealed, and the feminine glitter around the eyeholes should have made him look more ridiculous than it did but she was too in awe of the delicate craftsmanship.

She touched it gently. "Is this for me?"

His smile wasn't as self-satisfied as she would have expected. "I doubt anyone would have remembered that you might not have the proper attire for the evening."

That he would even think of that was astonishing in itself, but she was too awed to care. The dress was begging for a closer inspection. She pulled it carefully out of the box and held it up to the mirror, admiring it in full and trying to imagine what it might look like with a body to fill it. "Where did you get it?"

"It was a gift."

She almost glared at him, but just this once she thought she could forgive him for a cryptic response. For all she knew, it was something he'd just magicked out of thin air in much the same way his own clothing seemed to change from time to time.

"Thank you," she said honestly, feeling a little subdued when remembering her own former anger at him. She couldn't say she entirely trusted his intention, but when she thought about it he'd really been more of a help to her than not. He had been ready to face Eleanor alone to give her a chance to flee. Orders or not, she didn't think he'd been that compelled to do it…and even assuming that had something to do with his need to set her against other Subordinates, surely the gift of a dress didn't work anywhere into that equation. That would be ridiculous, she decided, petting thoughtfully at the skirt.

Oddly, her gratitude didn't have quite the impact she'd expected, but his conflicted expression was banished with a smile to quickly for her to be sure she'd really seen it. "It'll be sure to make the little girl green with envy. Speaking of which…"

There was a reluctant knock on the door. Ralph looked smug. "Your apology awaits."

She didn't need to tell him to go. Between one blink and the next, Ralph's reflection in the mirror disappeared, and Alyssa carefully folded the dress back into the box and prudently covered it with the lid. The mask was eyeing her woefully from the dresser, and she made sure it was hidden as well before cautiously opening the door. Nadine made a point of looking at anything but her.

"Cousin Alyssa," Nadine began formally, sounding as though the words had to be dragged from her lips over a bed of nails. "I wish to apologise for my earlier actions. You are a guest in our house and I had no right to accuse you as I did."

Nadine didn't quite believe that, but Alyssa thought she could hear a note of actual remorse in the girl's voice. Just a little.

"I can't excuse all my behaviour, but what happened to Janine…" Nadine hesitated, groping for words. "It shook me. We weren't expecting it. She was supposed to be senior Rooder at my birthday ceremony, but now…"

For a moment, Nadine looked her age; young, vulnerable, and with a fear that Alyssa was very familiar with. Of course she was also aware that Nadine could be particularly temperamental, so instead of putting a comforting hand on the girl's shoulder like she wanted to, she said, "It's okay. I'm sorry too. I guess I'm…too used to being on my own, making decisions for myself without consulting anyone."

It took a bit of pride swallowing to admit that. Whether or not she'd earned the right to dictate her own actions was a moot point. She was a guest, and even though there were times when she was sure the Bevelle's were intentionally excluding her, she could see that the wariness extended on both sides. Perhaps they weren't any more sure of her than she was of them, and that was almost reassuring in a way.

Whatever Ralph said, they were still the only family she had left. That had to mean something.

Nadine finally met her eyes, a little tentatively. "My mother will want to discuss the matter with you, but not yet. If you're willing, we would be honoured for you to join the celebration tonight as planned, unless…?"

They thought she might still leave. Alyssa shook her head. "Of course I'll come…and I'll explain myself to the Baroness. It was really just a misunderstanding."

Nadine nodded a little stiffly, very conscious of the probing eyes that were on them both. Tammy was trying to watch sneakily from behind the couch while George's door was open just wide enough for him to peer though. Marcus was waiting against the opposite wall, silently supporting his sister's apology, but when she caught his eye he hastily turned away.

"Thank you, Alyssa. If you need anything, Marcus and I will be in the Great Hall working on the preparations."

Alyssa would just as soon avoid them and give herself a chance to think, but before Nadine could move away she called the girl's name. Nadine paused, looking back at her warily, and Alyssa was suddenly unsure of what to say to put a dent in the wall she saw there. Janine had the right of it; why were they fighting if they were on the same side? But it seemed since the moment Nadine had met her there's been some unspoken resentment. Without knowing the cause, there wasn't much she could do about it, but she wished it wasn't so. The care and effort put into her birthday celebration said clearly that Nadine was well loved by her family, and Alyssa suspected that she and Nadine might actually find they had more in common than their blood.

"Fifteenth birthdays only come once," she offered softly, trying to reach Nadine with the small glimmer of wisdom she'd gained from her own birthday. She wasn't sure if Nadine would understand, but from the way the girl looked away, biting her lip, at least some of it had resonated. The anger she was holding on to, the fear, pain, pride, glory, and the fleeting happiness of being with loved ones…it passed all to quickly, for better or for worse.

"Thank you," Nadine murmured again, turning to leave, and this time she sounded more like she meant it. Alyssa could be happy with that.


	13. Chapter 13

**Author's Note:** So I didn't manage to get the chapter out last weekend like I'd hoped due to a few RL things taking precedence. Chapters may also be a bit slow due to stuff going on. Sorry to keep you all hanging!

**To kittyheartdance:** Thank you very much for the email! I definitely enjoyed your musings, and while I didn't want to make a response until this chapter was out so as not to spoil you, let's just say that I give your deductive reasoning a ten out of ten! I'll email you back soon to clear up some of the holes I missed.

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**Chapter 13 - Friends and Enemies.**

The dress looked better on than she thought it would. How Ralph had managed to find something that fit perfectly was tempting her to ask questions that she was fairly certain he wouldn't answer. She tried to convince herself that it didn't matter, and admittedly it was easy enough to be distracted by her reflection. She twirled girlishly, admiring the way the bright fabric rippled like warm sunshine.

She was less amused by the way Ralph suddenly laughed at her.

"Who could have thought darling Alyssa was such a vain little peacock," he remarked teasingly as he sat rather precariously on her dresser. She wondered if he got a kick out of perching where a fall could be potentially dangerous.

She hastily brushed back her hair, feeling silly. "Oh, do be quiet. I just like the dress."

"It's a very nice dress," Ralph agreed. "You look good in it."

She gave him an odd look but there didn't seem to be any note of mockery in his compliment. "Thank you."

Perhaps he was just self-congratulating himself on choosing so well. That must be it.

She hadn't yet done anything about her hair but she was curious about the final effect of her costume was going to have. She slipped on the mask, noticing how closely it melded to her skin. There definitely had to be some kind of magic in its creation then, because she doubted Ralph had managed to put a mould on her while she slept. It was dramatically dark around her eyes before opening up into a sunburst of colour that glittered even in the dull light of her room. Subtle shadings of paint seemed to change the shape of her face, making her almost a different person. Too bad her hair would still give her away, she mused regretfully, fluffing out the bedraggled strands. Her honey colour didn't fit in with the rest of the Bevelle family, who had either the darker shades of brown or Tammy's platinum blonde.

Ralph came up behind her, too close for comfort, and Alyssa went very still as one of his hands rested lightly at her waist while the other softly stroked her hair. "Standing out isn't always a blessing."

"No," she murmurred, wondering if she dared to pull away from him, but his reflection in the mirror showed that the expression on his face wasn't vindictive of her discomfort. His eyes seemed sad.

"Wearing a mask for one night is better than wearing one all the time," he told her, and as his fingers ran through her hair it suddenly changed, falling into longer, darker ringlets that fell longer than her own practical style. It wasn't just an illusion, she realised with shock. She could feel the weight of the curls on her shoulders.

"How-?"

"A simple trick," Ralph said, and Alyssa was suddenly reminded of how Jemima had first appeared to Dennis in Linda's image. Changing hair was probably much easier than a complete transformation, but looking in the mirror the effect was equally dramatic. Alyssa didn't recognise herself at all.

"Now you might as well be one of them," Ralph remarked, though with a slight edge of distaste. "But only for tonight. That illusion will fade in time."

"How long do I have?" Alyssa asked, carefully feeling through her new thick tresses, but it seemed she couldn't dispel them through simple touch.

"Until midnight," Ralph said, finally stepping back until she could breath again. His reflection leered. "And then your dress turns back into a pumpkin."

Alyssa looked down. It was definitely more yellow than orange, but still within that colour spectrum. She gave him a flat look. "I thought the carriage was the pumpkin."

"You don't have a carriage," Ralph pointed out reasonably. "Or glass slippers, though if you wanted…"

She took a hasty step back as though it would help if he suddenly decided to turn her shoes to glass. "No thanks."

"But then how will your prince be able to find you?" he asked sweetly.

Alyssa made a face. "I hope he doesn't."

"Me too," Ralph remarked oddly, but changed his tone before she could question him. "But you should keep your ears open tonight. They might speak more freely around you if they don't realise who you are."

She should have asked what she was supposed to be listening for, but her first question was, "Aren't you coming with me?"

This made him smile, but he shook his head. "It wouldn't be a good idea."

She touched her altered hair. "But can't you go in disguise?"

"One stranger might not be remarked upon…but two? Besides, you would offend your hosts if they realised I was there."

Nadine certainly wouldn't take too kindly to it, and her powers had nearly reached their peak. She might just be able to tell who Ralph was no matter what skin he was wearing.

"Alright," she agreed unhappily, then realised that offending the Bevelles was probably the last concern on Ralph's mind and eyes him suspiciously. "What are you going to be doing?"

His grin was of picturesque innocence. "Me? I was thinking of taking a look in the Baroness' private study-"

He held up a hand as she opened her mouth to object. "Before you forbid me, consider this. What do you know of the Bevelle's coming of age ceremony?"

She faintly recalled Marcus telling her of the days of celebration. _One day to welcome the family. One day in honour to our patron. One day for the birthday girl_…He hadn't gotten the opportunity to tell her about the rest.

"Nothing," she admitted warily.

"Then that makes two of us…but I know it involves the Quatermaster."

That name rang a bell. Alyssa thought she might have seen the name in her Grandfather's book of Entities, and again in the Bevelle's library. Half a dozen spines on the Subordinate's bookshelf had bourn that name. "Eleanor mentioned him," she mused aloud.

"The Master of Shades," Ralph added. "But I know nothing of him. He's been missing longer than I've been a Subordinate."

Which meant he was old, and with age came power. Alyssa felt an uncomfortable prickle of fear. "What does he have to do with the Bevelles?"

"That, I don't know." Ralph kicked his heel despondently against the dresser, but his eyes teased her. "I was hoping to find something in the old woman's possession that would tell me."

Alyssa folder her arms crossly at him, not approving of the idea, and he sighed expansively. "They're never going to tell you, Alyssa. The Bevelles keep their secrets too well. It's the only edge they have over the stronger bloodlines, and they will not surrender it even if their pride is their downfall...and they will let you fall with them."

"And then you'll be banished again too, right?"

He smirked cheerfully. "Exactly."

She released a tense breath, and had to reluctantly admit that he had a point. "Okay. Just…be careful."

Ralph gave her a smug salute. "Yes Mistress."

"You-!"

He laughed gaily and pulled her hands from where they were worrying at her new hair. She couldn't get used to the feel of it, and in the process had messed the placement of neat curls. He directed her to the mirror again and began stroking them back into place with surprising deftness. "You should be careful yourself, Alyssa. I'm leaving you alone with the wolves. Just remember, if you really need me you can call my name. I promise I'll hear you."

"I'll be fine," she muttered grumpily, letting him fuss over her. She'd never admit it, but it felt kind of nice.

If she'd known being invisible was quite this liberating she would have considering bringing along some of her precious supply of invisibility bands from home. Of course she wasn't invisible in the traditional sense, and every so often she would get a smile and a compliment on her mask, but there was none of the ostracism she'd felt on previous nights. She was just another dark-haired cousin among many.

It was easy to slip into a conversation, smile and laugh and move on before anyone took special note of her. She was mindful of Ralph's suggestion to listen for anything important but the mood of the masquerade seemed light and cheerful, drunk on the secrecy of identities and the flaunting of mystery. Whatever dark deeds the Bevelle family was hiding, no one seemed inclined to speak of it. Alyssa nearly forgot herself in the simple enjoyment of not being an outsider, but she was keeping one eye on the time. She was fairly certain her dress would not actually turn into a pumpkin, but given Ralph's sometimes cruel sense of humour she wasn't going to be taking any chances. She'd go back to her room before midnight, even if that meant cutting the party short.

The evening was more than half over, and she was just taking a respite by the punch bowl when Marcus approached her. "Alyssa?"

She started, spilling her drink over her hand, though thankfully not on her dress. "Er…"

He laughed, and grabbed a napkin. "I thought it was you. That's a very convincing glamour you're wearing."

"Thanks," she said uncertainly, but he didn't seem angry with her deception. He courteously wiped the sticky droplets from her knuckles, smiling beneath his own mask. "How did you know it was me?"

"Your necklace gives you away," he told her.

Her hand flew to the small four-leafed clover at her throat. It had never even occurred to her to take it off. "It was my mother's."

"And her mother's before that, I'd wager," Marcus said, leading her away from the table to a quieter corner where they could talk more easily over the music. "It's a very old Rooder artefact. I've seen pictures of it in books."

"I don't know much about it," Alyssa admitted. She'd certainly looked, but in any of the promising books she'd found there seemed to be key pages torn out. Her Grandfather had been quite thorough.

"Really?" His dark eyes seemed to glitter. "Maybe later I can show you the texts. I'd be curious myself to know what kind of powers it has."

"I'd like that," she agreed, looking him over speculatively. His own mask was deceptively plain, a sheer white that hid half his face in a way that was intentionally reminiscent of the Phantom of the Opera. In spite of that somewhat disconcerting resemblance, he was smiling charmingly at her, with no sign of his earlier hurt. Nadine's apology seemed to have smoothed things over between them.

He'd always seemed happy to talk to her. Alyssa wondered how Ralph was going with his own investigation, and considered that maybe her own evening wouldn't be completely wasted after all. "Actually, there was something else I've been meaning to ask you about."

His smile widened. "Yes?"

"About Nadine's birthday. It's the day after tomorrow, isn't it?"

"Rooder birthdays traditionally start after midnight, so technically it will be tomorrow night."

"Right," Alyssa said, having read something to that effect herself. "But no one's told me what kind of celebration it's going to be. Will it be another party, or…?"

Marcus shook his head. "The reason we have such frivolity leading up to the day is because the night itself is a very quiet, private affair. You haven't seen much of the estate yet, have you?"

"No."

"There's an old temple not far from here. It was built back when the Rooder patron was worshipped more openly." His lips quirked in a regretful twist. "Back when people knew what real evil was."

He paused for a moment, looking over the crowd, and Alyssa saw his eyes land on Nadine. Even though this was supposed to be her night, the girl had seemed far more subdued than usual, often pausing in motion as her attention drifted to a more serious thought. At other times she seemed to be searching intently for something or someone – maybe Alyssa herself, which she refused to feel guilty about. She'd been assuming that Nadine was just recovering from the fight in her own way, but Marcus's worried look seemed to hint it could be something more.

"Nadine was meant to ask you this, but we were hoping that you would watch over her during the Ceremony in Janine's place."

"Of course," she agreed instantly, and then belatedly added, "But I'm not sure exactly what I'd have to do."

"Just keep her safe," Marcus said, and then neatly changed the subject. "By the way, I've been curious to know what you think of our family."

Alyssa blinked. "What I think?"

"You weren't raised knowing our secret," Marcus clarified, but kindly. "That's something of a novelty. Our ways must seem very strange to you."

"Sometimes," she said cautiously, but he took her confession with good humour which prompted her to say more. "But it makes me wish I'd known about everything so much sooner. Then I wouldn't be so…"

Marcus nodded sympathetically. "It must be difficult for you. I'm sure once you've spent more time here you'll find it more comfortable." He tilted his head as though I thought had just occurred to him. "Why don't you stay with us a bit longer, after Nadine's birthday is over?"

The offer surprised her, and she glanced over to where Nadine was once again staring dully into empty space. "I wouldn't want to be a bother-"

"Nonsense. I'd love for you to stay." She suspected he coloured slightly under his mask, but he smoothly added, "Janine too. She'll be better soon, and we haven't shown you the gardens yet, or the village. We'd be honoured, really."

Alyssa wasn't sure what to say. On one hand he seemed so earnest, and hadn't she wanted an opportunity to know the family better, under less stressful circumstances? On the other hand, she didn't like the intensity of his look, and had the strangest feeling that saying yes would be an agreement to something else completely.

She was thankfully saved from answering by an over familiar hand on her shoulder.

"Is that you Nancy?" an unfamiliar young man asked. "Come on, you promised me a dance tonight."

She cast a brief apologetic look in Marcus' direction, but stranger pulled her away before she could do more than that. She let him, because she had a feeling he wasn't such a stranger after all. Nancy was her mother's name. Her lead her deep into the throng of dancers until they were well hidden amongst the crowd.

Only then did Alyssa realise that her initial guess was wrong. It wasn't Ralph after all, and though she could have sword his hair had been an indistinguishable dark shade a moment ago it was now definitely white. She'd been tricked by that same false sense of resemblance, and as he gripped her hand it was with none of Ralph's playfulness.

"Hello Alyssa," he greeted, and she got a sense that her shock pleased him even though it didn't show. In the open collar of his shirt she could see the coils of his tattoo glittering oddly, as though they were real scales instead of ink.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, straining to keep her voice low although it seemed each couple on the dance floor was thoroughly enthralled in the music. No one paid them any attention. "You're not a member of the family."

"No," he agreed, a smile curving on his thin lips. "Have you figured out who I am yet?"

She hadn't wanted to put a name to her suspicions, but that Ralph refused to enlighten her was telling in its own way. He had teased her with clues, but even misdirection could be laced with powerful truths. Ralph's agenda, whatever it was, lay in something greater than himself…or in someone, but Alyssa hadn't suspected that there was anyone else in his life besides Jemima. Except…

_The only Entity I cared for was my own._

The only other person – or was it being? – who had been with Ralph for his centuries as a Subordinate. It was easy to dismiss the Entity because they weren't like people; incorporeal, malicious and largely unknown, but Ralph had hinted at their intelligence. If they shared the body of a Subordinate, what else might that bond entail?

And even if she hadn't pieced together Ralph's fragile patchwork of information, she had her own instincts shoving the truth under her nose. This man reminded her of Ralph like Edgar had reminded her of Robert Morris; a recognition that transcended any superficial resemblance.

"You're a Subordinate," she said, doing a remarkable job of keeping her voice steady while her insides were quaking. "Your Entity used to belong to Ralph."

"Very good," he applauded her, mystifyingly sincere. It suddenly struck her that though she was caught in his embrace (though his touch was too light to really trap her) he was still standing in the middle of a room full of Rooders and seemed not at all concerned. Rightfully so, she supposed, because even touching him didn't raise any of the instinctive alarms that it should have.

"Why can't I sense you?" she asked, figuring that if she was going to die she might as well learn something in the process.

"One of the benefits of my position," the Subordinate said. "If our kind have a King, then I would be it."

"A…King?"

"That's right. Though our kind rarely congregate in any place or time, we still have a hierarchy of sorts. The Chopper, as head of the subordinates, served as our general, and for the moment I serve as our ruler."

"Oh," Alyssa said faintly. "I didn't realise."

"We try not to advertise it. It makes no difference to you Rooders anyway. You would find me extremely difficult to kill, considering I haven't been born yet."

She stared at him. "What?"

"I was born-" He paused for thought and corrected himself, "-will be born in the year 2074." To her flabbergasted look he added, "If you're still alive by then you'll be somebody's great-grandmother, so I see no harm in telling you."

"But…how…?"

"Entities can travel through time," he reminded her. "But only the King can travel to the future. It means they can choose a host whose name can't ever be found, which makes us as invincible as any being can be." He gave that a moment to sink in, before carrying on in a reasonable tone, "Sufficed to say, your present is my past, but I wanted the chance to meet you, Alyssa, since you are directly responsible for my ascension."

She was more bewildered than ever. "I am?"

"My Entity took power the night of your fifteenth birthday," he said, "because it was the only one who predicted that you would live."

Ralph had told her, in his round about way, but she hadn't realised exactly what it had meant. She still wasn't sure, but then he'd also said that the ways of Entities were alien to humans.

The Subordinate sighed heavily, and squeezed her hand to bring attention to the tension in her arm. "You needn't act so worried. I'm not here to harm you. In fact, I'm here to tell you how I want you to live a long and fulfilling life killing other Subordinates for me."

Perhaps repeated shocks had made her senses go numb, because she could only dredge up the emotion for a mildly bewildered, "Why?"

"It's very similar to the division of attitude in Rooder families, really," he reported. "Like the Bevelles, many Entities think that there is strength in numbers. They would prefer us to be an army rather than an enclave, spreading terror and fear across the Earth. They don't seem to realise the problems that would eventually cause."

He shook his head in a chiding fashion. "Then there are those like me – and like the Hamilton family – who realise that a single, stronger strain is more valuable than a dozen weak Subordinates. That fewer numbers means better resources for all. Doesn't that make more sense?"

Alyssa didn't know if he expected her to agree with him or not, but he hitched his shoulders dismissively. "It doesn't matter. All you need to know is that it suits my purposes to kill as many other Entities as possible, and since you've done so well up until now, we'd prefer to keep using you."

Alyssa couldn't even make a pretence that this was a nice, civil conversation anymore. She stood tense in his grip, her shoulders quivering from a volatile mix of fear and anger. "And what makes you think I'll help you? You're a Subordinate-!"

She realised she'd spoken too loud but it didn't matter. The last word should have raised an alarm with anyone within earshot but the party continued around them uninterrupted as though it were as static and unaffected as a movie on a screen. Whatever trick hid his presence from the Bevelles seemed to be covering them both, and though everyone on the dance floor politely gave them space no one really seemed to see them at all.

The Subordinate shook his head in apparent disappointment. "Now really, Alyssa, there's no reason to get upset. You always were a difficult child, weren't you?"

The snarl of a retort she had for that died on her lips as she felt a pinch on the hand he'd been gripping from their mockery of a dance. It didn't hurt, precisely, but she felt a strange coldness run up her arm, and her chest tightened as her insides started to freeze. A tiny smile lit the Subordinate's face, and his eyes held hers in an inexplicably mesmerising fashion. "Perhaps we should talk more privately."

She didn't want to, but she couldn't resist. He pulled her though the crowd towards the balconies and though she found herself staring longingly for another glimpse of his eyes she caught a glimpse of the shiny scale pattern on his wrist and recalled that it ended in a snake's head on his palm. The snake had bitten her, she thought crazily, because the pattern looked far too real to be mere ink and she could feel two distinct points of pressure, too numb to be agony, like twin fangs.

There was something very wrong with being alone in a secluded corner with this man, but when he looked back into her eyes she found it hard to remember why. Beneath the icy fog that descended over her senses her instincts were still screaming at her to run, but it was held in check by an equal measure of fear, like the rabbit before the wolf, as well as something else. A magnetism that made her sink against him rather than away from him even though her limbs felt mostly paralysed.

"Much better," the Subordinate approved, tilting her chin upward to better meet his gaze. Was it a trick of the light that made his pupils appear like slits? The expression had fallen from his face again but she could sense a pleasure from him, like a well fed predator. "This is how I kill my victims, you know. The right blend of toxins keeps a person unable to move but perfectly aware. Like giant dolls, really. Voodoo dolls. When I was younger, I had quite a collection of those for all the people I hated. Then I found out that putting pins into real people was much more satisfying."

He spoke incredibly factually, without much passion for his topic, but the hunger in his eyes wasn't nearly so reserved. He seemed to be eyeing her skin as though wondering how he would go about piercing it, but reluctantly tore his eyes away with a sigh. "Business before pleasure. You'll remember this conversation with perfect clarity later on, Alyssa, but it's best if you don't think too hard on it yet. You will help me because you'll realise for yourself that it's in your best interests to do so. My vision is of a world with less Entities, less Subordinates, and less sacrifices. Less murderers, less victims. Of the two evils, my way will be much kinder than that of any other who would wish to be King."

He stroked her neck, but the fascination he held for the way her pulse was beating frantically banished any thought of sensuality. "Whatever you decide to believe, it won't change what's already in motion. I'm still counting on you to vanquish the Quatermaster and preserve the Bevelle family line, and that means that every other of my kind is counting on me to be wrong. If I am, then someone else may become King. You can of course choose to die, but that would be a strange way to spite me, don't you agree?"

She couldn't answer him, still locked in his gaze. He seemed to be searching for something in her face, his slitted eyes blinking in scientific curiosity. "And as for why I'm telling you this, you have always been the wild card in the game. Ralph may be able to predict you well, but I do not have all of his insight, and it's better that you realise your situation now so I don't have to predict what will happen when he eventually decides to tell you. He'll say it's to shake up the game but his reasons have always been his own. What he sees in you…"

His face changed then, like ripping away the Phantom's mask and seeing the horrible scars beneath. His own veneer of placid reserve hid something just as terrible, that was wanting and hating at the same time, and as he leaned close she wasn't sure if he was going to kiss her or bite her.

"Ralph," she whispered, squeezing the word from her frozen lungs before he could do either. It was a weak, paltry defence that she'd only hoped would serve as a reminder that this Subordinate seemed to think he owed Ralph something and that if she died than Ralph would most likely go with her, but the moment the word left her lips she suddenly found herself thrown to the ground. Her skirt cushioned her fall somewhat, but the jolt made her mask slip from her face and the porcelain smashed loudly on the cold stone of the balcony.

"That's enough, don't you think?" Distantly, a part of her was exalted to hear Ralph's voice, but she was still mostly numb. She couldn't even turn her head to look at him properly, though she could see the Subordinate just on the edge of her vision. He stood a few paces back – Ralph must have appeared more or less between them and shoved them apart – but he seemed neither offended nor disappointed. The mask was back in place.

"Too much interference constitutes as cheating," Ralph continued, and though his tone was friendly the atmosphere wasn't. "You really shouldn't risk that. The Clock Tower might decide not to listen to you anymore."

"I was just leaving," the Subordinate agreed, sounding almost bored as though suddenly tired of conversation. "By the way, do you have an answer to my question yet?"

Ralph said nothing. The Subordinate smirked, his eyes crinkling in a way that made him seem much more ordinary than it usually was. "Didn't think so."

He disappeared, completely, thoroughly, and without the usual flash of light that accompanied Ralph's teleportation. Alyssa's breath was still coming in shaky pants but at least now it didn't feel as though she were suffocating. Ralph entered her line of sight and knelt beside her, taking in the wideness of her eyes and the brittle stiffness of her limbs. She saw his eyes sweep over her hand and stay there, but only when he carefully upturned her palm did she see why. There were two long pins sticking out from the junctions between her fingers, embedded deep enough to make her feel faint. Blood had dribbled over her fingers, leaving dark droplets on her pale skirt and a bigger stain where her hand had rested.

Those'll never wash out, she thought giddily, because it seemed much better than trying to focus on the pins. She wasn't a stranger to pain, and indeed it still didn't really hurt, but the preciseness of their placement and knowing the metal was still in her flesh was too much to bear. She made a strangled, wounded noise, but Ralph shushed her absently and calmly pulled them out, blotting at the blood with little regard for the satin of her petticoats. When she started to shake he only held her hand a little more firmly, making sure she wouldn't injure herself further.

Though she was sure there was no such thing on the Bevelle's estate, the night suddenly chimed with the heavy sound of a clock tower striking midnight.


End file.
